Letter 286- March 11, 1946

Giessen, Germany (Hesse)
March 11, 1946

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I’m writing you today to tell you to stop writing to me. By the time you get this letter I should be well on my way home. Yesterday we were informed that we would be leaving for our carrier unit or casual packet sometime this week. The fact of the matter is that we may leave tomorrow or we may leave sometime late this week. At any rate it can’t be much longer than that. There is a large shipment of troops leaving port on the 28th or 29th of this month and if I’m lucky I will be with that shipment. Of course, everything is too indefinite to tell for sure. That’s the same old thing that makes me love the army so damn much. You never can tell when they’re going to do something. A fellow will get ready to go somewhere ten times only to have the date set back and then when he expects it the least they come rushing in with the orders for him to be ready to move in about five minutes.

Anyway they called yesterday morning and wanted to know if any of us wanted to stay over here. I like the way they go at it. They call up and with an unusual sweetness of voice say that if we wish there is no reason why we have to go. Ha! This army kicks you in the pants for years and then they think that you will fall in love with them if they merely pat you on the back once.

I received a letter from you yesterday dated the 27th of Feb. which made pretty good time considering how the mails usually go over here. I doubt very much that you waited a whole week between letters, but that’s the way I usually get them. So they wrote to you about the book of the Regt. during combat. I really want one of those but the dirty so and so who wrote to you also wrote to me and I already ordered one. It shouldn’t be too long now before I get a book from division also. It is 400 pages and is called “The Story of the Century”. With all three of the books that we will have you should have a pretty good idea what in hell I did over here. What’s more I should get an idea what in hell I did over here. I’ve often wondered just what in the devil was going on.

Yesterday they said that we’d be leaving here Tuesday or Wednesday so I spent a good part of the day saying goodbye to people I know around here. The first thing that those who are German said was, “I wish I were going too, you lucky guy.” Of course that’s the same thing the Americans said too. In fact I have a sneaking suspicion that these people are slightly envious of me around here. Now, however, it seems that I may be stuck around here for some time to come—maybe a week or so. It’s really hard to say.

I really have a hard time believing that this can be true. I’ve nothing but bad news for so long that I’m not conditioned to good news. I need some sort of refresher course in it or something.

The weather at last is beginning to break up around this neck of the woods. You might know it. It’ll probably be nice as can be from the time that I leave until next winter. Right now the weather is warm and just a bit foggy. It’s a lot like home about this time of year. For all my complaining though this has not been a hard winter for Germany. We’ve had very little snow and not enough cold to really make things bad. It really would have been bad if it had. The people here are not starving yet but they are not eating as well as the people in the other parts of Europe no matter what these idiot reporters for PM and other such publications say. The only thing is that they don’t moan about it so much. They’re just happy that things are as good as they are.

Well, I guess that about does it for now.


Best Love,
Bill

Letter 275- February 11, 1946

February 11, 1946
Giessen, Germany (Hesse)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I suppose you are about ready to murder me for not writing but you have no idea how busy I’ve been. Our vehicles aren’t working, we are in the midst of discharging about 250 DEF’s this week and God knows what else is coming up. We’ve got two new replacements here fresh in from the states but still there is more work to do with us. There’s some talk of giving us a Polish Guard Co. to manage. Boy, we sure hope not! Those Pollacks are a bunch of trigger happy jerks. They are drunk so much of the time that it’s a pity. I’d hate to get shot some night by one of those bums after all I’ve lived through. I don’t know though. Almost all of us here in this company will be going home before long and there’s not much sense in taking us out of here just for a couple of weeks. What I’m hoping that they do is just let us sit. Some companies have been doing that.

I think that you must have noticed the change in grade on the outside of the letter. That’ll mean a little more money and maybe a little better break while I’m on my way home. It took so long to get here that I really doubted that it would ever come through at all. The Lieutenant said that I’m now an officer, non-commissioned. That’s his idea of a joke I guess. It sure must have broken somebody’s heart to see me get that.

I’ve been getting shots for dyptheria for the last few days and as a result I feel pretty lousy. However, I’m glad that I’m getting them since dyptheria is rather prevalent around here at the present time and I’d hate to come down with it. A girl who lived down the street from here and who used to develop pictures for the fellows died with it only the other day. She worked for the American hospital and she received the best of treatment but I guess she just didn’t have enough pep to pull through. There is a lot of flu around to boot. Several people I know are down with it and everybody has at least a touch of it.

The weather continues to amaze everybody in Giessen. Every day it rains and the sky is always cloudy. In fact there are flood levels everywhere. Actually we haven’t had any snow since November and you can see for yourself how far north Giessen in situated. All the Germans claim that people would be feeling better if there were at least a little snow around.

I still have not received anything in the way of mail so I suppose that you are still getting your letters back. That’s what you said in the last letter I did receive. The trouble seems to be that there is more than one 1297 LSC in the theatre.

Well, that’s about all for tonight. I hope that you are feeling well.

Best Love,
Bill

(enclosure)

Dear Folks,

Here is a picture of Hans Hauser our company interpreter. He is 17 years old and came into the Wehrmacht 2 years ago—some stuff, huh? He’s a good kid but we like to kid him about his superman expression in this picture. He’s one of those brats that always has a milewide grin on his kisser so he must have almost sprained his schnozzle for this picture.

Bill


(photo enclosed)-with inscription “in memory of our friendship in Giessen, Germany
Yours,
Hans Hauser
CuLw/Schiessberg O.

Letter 273- January 31, 1946

January 31, 1946

Giessen, Germany (Hesse)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I decided the other day that I wouldn’t write to you until my promotion came through, but now I see that the same old incompetence prevails. Captain Wollner has started home and without him around to give these guys a kick in the pants every five minutes they don’t get anything done. My recommendation has been in for over a month now but we still haven’t heard a thing about it. Twice Captain Wollner found our papers lying around in some office and jumped somebody about it but now that he’s gone I don’t know what will happen. Likely as not the papers will be lost and we shall never hear anything more about it. You remember some orders for the recommendation of a Bronze Star were lost in the same way. After all that they come around and tell us that we’ll really be passing up a great chance by not reenlisting in the Regular Army. HA! They should live so long.

I’ve finally got one break anyway. That is that on the fifth I’m leaving for Switzerland. From what I’ve heard it should really be a swell trip. The army has taken over a couple of the finest hotels available and really made a swell thing out of it. Everybody that’s been there says that they’ve never seen a nicer setup. The trip will cost me a flat rate of thirty-five dollars but since I’ll probably never get a chance to see it again I believe that it’ll be well worth it.

I’ll be sure to write you a couple of letters from there to save as souvenirs, and try to get some presents if it is still possible. I doubt very seriously if Switzerland will compare very well with California the way I feel right now but it will make a nice break in the damn waiting. If I leave here on the fifth I probably won’t be back for ten days anyway and then it shouldn’t be much more than a month at the outside before I enter the pipe line. The order to turn in the names of all fifty pointers came through today so you can see how the situation is going. According to the plan now in use I must be waterborne by April fifteenth and I believe that the army will try to get ahead on the schedule in order to get back into the good graces of the people at home.

There’s not much else to write tonight. The weather is still incredibly mild with no snow and only a little rain. We haven’t even had a slight freeze for more than a week now. Most of the people here are afraid that it will be a late winter with snow in March and April. Maybe so but it will have to get a helluva lot colder than it is right now.

We’re having a lot of trouble with the flu right here now. I’ve had a slight touch of it but nothing to amount to anything though. Some of the P.W.’s however, have been quite ill. I guess it’s the weather that’s doing it. It’s a lot like late March or April right now.

Well, this doesn’t make much of a letter but it’s about all that I have to say for tonight soooooooooo-

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 270- January 20, 1946

January 20, 1946
Giessen, Germany (Hesse)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I suppose you were about beginning to wonder why I haven’t written again and I must say that it’s the same old reason. I haven’t been receiving any mail from you. This morning, however, I got a letter dated Jan. 1. As far as I can see there is no reason why it must take 20 days for a letter to get to me. Even during the worst part of the fighting the mail situation was better than that.

Well, what do you think about the new point arrangement? In every other theatre men with 47 points are on their way home with the exception of the ETO. And they say that I won’t be on my way until the middle of April. It certainly is quite a comedown. I really don’t feel that this is the fault of the army however, and I believe that the theatre commanders who are taking the worst beating are the least to blame of anybody. They get orders on exactly what they must do and they have no choice on how they’re going to do them. These big shots back in the states seem to think that the U.S. can maintain a major occupation force over here without any troops. That is stupid no matter how one looks at it. I’m afraid the real trouble is that the majority of people don’t understand just what the situation is and that those who do know are keeping it to themselves for certain reasons that are beyond me. I believe General Eisenhower himself is as unaware of the real problem as are the people. I know that there is hardly a single soldier who actually fought in the war who is in favor of a complete demobilization of our armed forces. In that way we would not only lose everything that we fought for but would lose all the prestige that we now hold. Today everyone in Europe looks to America as their only hope for a decent future. This may sound like so much bull but after one gets a slant on these people he realizes that is so. They’re all afraid of us yet they all respect and trust us. If we leave altogether they will get the feeling that America has gone isolationist again and then will come despair and the usual results.

There is a great deal of aap—beg pardon—misapprehension now about troops over here. The general consensus of opinion among government representatives and even high army officials is that there are very few combat troops left in the ETO when just the opposite is true. The B Bag article is just a sample. Actually there has been less agitation by actual fighting soldiers than by the others. Maybe this is because the combat soldier feels himself so fortunate to still be in one piece that complaining would be an ungrateful act.

There certainly is a lot of difference between leaving for home on the 15 of April and on the 5 of February as was promised only about 2 weeks ago. There is only one thing that I can say in favor of the new setup and that is that we at least know what the score is now and we can base all our suppositions on some concrete facts.

Well, glory Be! If there ain’t anudder strike in the news. What’s going to happen anyway? Some writers for TIME say they never saw the U.S. in such a state of selfishness. I really don’t know what to think. I always tell these Krauts that the strikes are very praiseworthy and they express American freedom and such, but I wonder if in the end everybody isn’t going to be on strike against everybody else. We got it all arranged here where the LSC will go on strike against the Railhead Co. and so on.

The weather here continues to be quite a mystery. Here it is the middle of January and no snow and no ice and not very much rain even. I certainly don’t mind it but according to everybody in Giessen there should be a couple of feet of snow on the ground. I’m just getting over the worst cold that I’ve had in a couple of years now. I even had a touch of sinus which I’ve never been bothered by before that I can remember. Since yesterday my nose has been running like the devil and today I feel pretty good.

You can forget about my “dark secret” now. Like everything else in this army that sounds good it didn’t pan out. Even my rating doesn’t seem to be coming through for about half a dozen foolish reasons like “We can’t find this record.” You know the usual army runaround. It no longer angers me; it merely bores me.

I guess that about does it for today. I’ll write again soon.


Best Love,
Bill

Letter 264- December 30, 1945

December 30, 1945
Giessen, Germany (Hesse)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

It’s been several days since I’ve written you a letter and with the storms at sea and so forth it’s hard to say just when you’ll be receiving any letters from me. As for me I haven’t received any mail yet so I’m requesting a telegram for you to send me. I haven’t had any mail in so long that I’m beginning to get a little worried. Nobody here has been getting any so I know that everything is probably all right but still I’d like to get some word from you.

It’s Sunday today and the weather is lousy. We’ve had rain, sleet and snow all mixed together. Everyone here says the weather is unusually mild for this time of year but nevertheless it’s pretty depressing. We’re in that crumby lull between Christmas and New Years right now in which we’re not doing anything really and yet we’re not really getting any free time. In short it’s the time of year in which yours truly would rather be home than sitting in Germany wasting his time. The other day an order came down from higher headquarters for men eligible for shipment home and somehow my name was on it by mistake. Boy! Was I mad. I was so close and yet so far. The men with 45-49 points in the 15th Infantry of the 3rd Division have been alerted for the 20th of January so I’m holding my breath. As far as I know I’m still slated to leave on the 5th of February but it can be changed any time.

Our radio here is a godsend. I think that I’d practically go screwy if I didn’t have it to listen to. Right now I’m listening to some of the Sunday programs over ASN which takes my mind off the general pain in the neck that I have to think about all the time. About 20 feet from my window there’s a new rookie pacing up and down his post in the rain. He’s new enough in the army to take his job seriously which is good because it impresses the Germans. The rest of us are getting to that “I don’t give a damn” point which is no good for an army of occupation. At any rate I’m glad that its he instead of I out there walking a post. If there’s anything in the whole world I hate its guard duty.

I just heard the news and what they had to say about the redeployment set-up for the next few months didn’t sound any too good. I wish to heaven they’d come right out and tell us what the score is instead of hedging around and giving out a lot of figures that sound good but don’t mean a damn thing.

Well, my recommendation for Cpl. has gone in now and all I have to do is wait and see what the devil happens. If all goes well the okay will be back here within the next week or ten days. If it comes through all right I’ll be a lot better off when the time does come for me to go home. It’ll mean less K.P. and guard duty, not to mention the money that I’ll be getting. That’ll be about $88.00 a month while I stay here and about $76.00 when I get back to the states. That combat infantry pay does come in pretty handy.

I guess that’s about all for today so Happy New Year.



Best Love,
Bill

Letter 258- Thanksgiving Day 1945

Thanksgiving Day 1945
Giessen, Germany (Hesse)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

Well, its 9 o’clock at night and Thanksgiving is practically over with. Down the road a piece from here is a large apartment building with a company or so of Infantry living there and tonight when I passed there coming back from the movies I saw them unloading fresh cut Christmas trees so I guess that the Christmas season is just around the corner. These other holidays don’t mean a great deal to me but I really dread Christmas. In ’43 at Camp Abbot I was miserable. Last year at Bitche I was so miserable anyway that I didn’t know the difference. And so it goes. At least I’m reasonably sure that this will be my last Christmas away from home for a while.

In some ways I feel sorry for the fellows that are going home with the 100th. They’re going to come close to making it but I doubt if any of them will be actually home Christmas Day. We really had a swell dinner today anyway. The whole works and you should have seen the Kraut cooks when we dived into that meal. I thought they were going to bust with pride. I gotta hand it to them. They worked like slaves all last night to get that meal out and they really did themselves proud.

Still no mail and I’m getting sunk down to the point where I can just barely see over the bow in my shoelaces. It’s been practically two weeks now since I’ve received a letter. There’s no use griping though because all the griping I’ve done in the past two years seems to have fallen on deaf ears. They’re still running the thing the way I think it shouldn’t be run.

I’m beginning to get over this damn cold that’s been plaguing me for the last week anyway. That good old “Deutch Klima” is slowly exterminating the AEF. I think they must be supermen to live in this climate because it’s as bad or worse than England and that is saying a lot. I’ve been here two weeks now and I’ve yet to see the sun. I still doubt that they have one in this part of the country.

There’s something I want to tell you but I’m keeping my yap shut for once because every time I’ve had good news for you before the boomin’ things have blown up in my face.

I hope you’ll excuse some of the lousy English and spelling in this letter. The typewriter that I’m using is one of those noiseless affairs that you have to jump up and down on the keyboard in order to put enough weight on the keys.

That’s it I guess. Hope you spent an enjoyable Thanksgiving as well as a happy wedding anniversary.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 254- November 14, 1945

November 14, 1945
Giessen, Germany

Dear Mudder and Dad,

What can I write about? What have I been doing that’s new and different? “Nuttin”. Damn it! I’m getting into a terrible rut. This morning I get out of bed at 7:00. I dress quickly and go to breakfast. I come back, wash, shave, put on my overcoat, and go over to the warehouse. Until noon I stand around trying to look as intelligent as possible and practice my German on any Jerry who’s got the time to listen. After eating lunch I read the paper and go back to the warehouse—etc.,etc. In the evening I go to a movie, grade “Q”, and then come back and try to compose a letter. Phooey! This army can figure more ways to do nothing unpleasantly than any other organization in the world. “No other army can make that statement!”

It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sun that I’m beginning to wonder if we still have one. Maybe somebody stole it. Please give me some information on this subject.

My mail still hasn’t caught up with me so I don’t from nothing what goes. That makes it all the tougher to write. I see where the 100th has been alerted. Sure wish I was coming home with her. In the little things I’ve not been very lucky in the army. In important things, namely my being alive and in one piece, I’ve been quite fortunate. Can’t have good looks and money too—or can ya?

Morale here is lower than a snake’s belly. There just seems to be no sense in what we’re doing here. I feel funny as hell doing nothing. All I can say is “The sooner I get home the better.” It seems I’ve been taking orders so long that I’ve forgot how to think. At the warehouse I’m boss but if I don’t watch myself I’m always asking someone else what to do next. Just force of habit. I can do it better myself but it’s been so long.

These Krauts are a pain. They’re honest hard workers but so slow, and they’ve got to have a boss to tell them what to do every minute. “Sweep the floor.” “Right to left or left to right?” Wot a life!

Have you received my package yet? I sure hope so.

Well, that’s it.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 239- September 23, 1945

September 23, 1945
(Derdingen, Ger)

Dear Folks,

Well, what ya know? Look what I found. Some envelopes you’ve been wondering about and I’ve been looking for.

We’re suffering an acute paper shortage here right now. I’m only writing now by the courtesy of the Red Cross “as any fool kin plainly see.” So if you will, I can use some writing paper in my next package.

They came out with the adjusted point score and I see I’ve been saved by 3 points. Forty-four points and under stays in the Army of Occupation. I’ve got 47 points. I’ve got from 3 to 9 months to spend over here yet in the close out force but at least I’ve got some sort of a chance. I don’t know though. They’ll probably change their minds a hundred times before New Years. I see they’re even thinking of letting low point men at home out before higher point men over here. I wouldn’t doubt it. I guess they think they can handle us as long as we’re way over here. These guys will be sorry someday. I don’t want to see the maintenance of peace and national defense go to hell but they could at least be halfway fair about the thing. I heard a single fellow say that he was never going to get married because it must be a lot tougher than combat the way some people are trying to get points for the married men.

The outfit is going all to hell. Everybody’s leaving for homeward bound units or Occupation units. The status of the 100th is not quite clear yet. I don’t think anybody knows what’s going on.

One thing I’m sure of now is that I’m going to be here past Christmas so if you get this letter in time send them on.

The weather’s taken a turn for the worse again. Rain every damn day and particularly damp, cold and foggy. I just never seem to warm up. There’s almost no coal for the furnaces in the building only enough to keep the showers hot in the afternoon.

That about does it for now.


Best Love,
Bill

Letter 235- September 9, 1945

September 9, 1945 (est.)
(Stuttgart, Germany)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I am now in the 51st Evacuation Hospital in Stuttgart, but don’t get excited because all I’ve got is a case of the worms and expect to go back to my company tomorrow. Big things are really beginning to pop right now so I hate to be away even if I am living the life of Reilley here in the hospital. If I make some funny mistakes on this typewriter don’t be surprised. This is a German model and it has got some of the damnedest things on it- άöüδζ and so forth. Things are still in the balance as to whether I go home with the Division or whether I am stuck over here in the closing out forces or some bloomin’ thing like that. All I know is that this is no time to be in the hospital. They sure are determined to feed my worms well before they knock the so and so’s off. We get ice cream at least once a day and often as not twice, but still I don’t like it. In a hosp. one feels like an invalid even if there isn’t anything wrong with him. Oh well, I’ll probably be out of here in a day or two so it doesn’t make any difference. If they count the points right I could be home by the first or November but if they don’t it’s hard to tell. At any rate I’ll know when I get back to the company.

The hospital is on a high hill overlooking all of Stuttgart. From here one would never know the city is merely an empty shell of what it once was. From my window I can see the entire thing as it sweeps around the more or less horseshoe like valley in front of me. It looks like any other prosperous town and I must admit that there is a great deal of activity going on everywhere. The weather has been bad for the last week or so and one can already smell the scent of Fall in the air. The mornings are often chilly and I imagine that by the first of October the frost will have begun to set in. In the country the people are working rather hard at the harvest, or the women are I should say. It would seem that the men do very little here in Germany but start wars. Everyday now I see long trainloads of troops passing through on their way toward the coastal ports and every time I see one I get as homesick as the devil.

Well that about does it.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 226- August 10, 1945

August 10, 1945
(Derdingen, Ger.)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

It is now 1800 hours of what might be the greatest day of my life; the end of this God awful war. As I write an announcer is speaking in German of the Japanese surrender offer. A.F.N. has announced that if Japan officially surrenders within the next few hours as is expected they will warn us by a 30 second sound pitch over the radio. I guess we’re all praying that this is it. I’ll underline that last phrase. It used to send chills running up and down my spine. It meant attack. Some of my letters must sound a little dramatic but it seems to be in the air.

I’m sure that never has anything happened so fast. Five days ago a year, maybe 2 years seemed inevitable in the Pacific but now it may be that in a few months when I come home that it will be for good. My mind is not conditioned for that kind of thinking. Anyway I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

Well, “whatayouknow”?! I received your package with the shoes, etc. today. It was postmarked the 17th of July. Not bad, eh? I’ve got the shoes on now. It’s the first pair of Oxfords I’ve had on since I was last home on furlough 14 months ago. They feel funny but good.

Boy is there a storm raging outside. 3 days it’s been going on now, and in August too. Someone should take Europe weather and all, dump it into the toilet, and flush it down good.

This school we’re living in is a rather modernistic affair, “L” shaped, with one side practically all glass. As a result the cold comes right in and there’s no coal for the furnace. What a situation, what a country, wot a life. I don’t know what I’m talking about. Four months ago I would have thought this was heaven or better.

Most of the boys went to a show in Stuttgart tonight but personally the long, cold truck ride didn’t appeal to me & since the pending big news (I hope) was so interesting I decided to stay here. I should have liked to have gone though at that. The play is the Broadway hit, “Kiss and Tell”.

Thanks for the package.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 205- June 24, 1945

June 24, 1945
(Göppingen, Ger.)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I’ve been trying to get up enough energy to write for two days now but the weather is hot and sticky here right now and it just seems to take the pep right out of a body.

Someday, or rather sometime today I’m going down and make my O.C.S. application. I don’t know what the score is but I’m going to find out.

It seems pretty definite now that we’re not going to be occupation over here so I might as well make a stab at it. I’m getting rather up now with everything as it is.

If the O.C.S. doesn’t work out I should be home for 30 days sometime before Christmas. Otherwise things are pretty much the same here. On Tuesday we’re moving back to Nürtigen I believe. That will mean more training but less hikes, etc.

Last night I took in a show, “Skylark” with Claudette Colbert and Ray Milan. I enjoyed it although I didn’t think it remarkable.

I’ve had quite a number of snapshots taken during the last few days. I hope they come out so I can send them to you.

Well, this doesn’t make much of a letter but I guess that’s all anyway.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 190- April 24, 1945

April 24, 1945
(Germany)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

Well, I’m back from Paris now. The beautiful interlude is “finis, caput”. Alas, alas. However, I’m in a nice, comfortable and what is more important a safe place and it looks as if I may stay here for quite some time. I know that’ll make you feel better. If feel much better myself. Here I live among the comforts of home—running water, electric lights, radio and the like. Almost as good as Paris. On second thought it couldn’t be that good. First thing you know I’ll be off in a blue daze of shined shoes, clean shave, ties, etc. I’ll be back in the army.

The news sure looks good these days. The armies are moving around so fast that nobody knows what the score is. Unless the Jerries try to make a stand in the Bavarian Alps the thing should be over in a few days or week at the most. I hate to make predictions, however.

The weather here has been beautiful for the last few days; real California weather. I never have seen such bright clear days in Europe. The horizon is even rippling with heat waves.

I received several letters from you yesterday. They were the first ones in about 2 weeks so they really were appreciated.

There’s not much else to say right now so until I work up enough energy to write again…..

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 177- February 14, 1945

February 14, 1945
(“Somewhere” as usual)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

Well, once again I am in a place where writing a letter is possible. I’m sitting in a comfortable room at a table with plenty of sunshine to write by—yes, I said sunshine. It seems as if spring has hit this country at last. Since I last wrote there’s been a steady rise in temperature; and now there’s not even a trace of snow left on the ground. It’s amazing how green everything has suddenly become. But inevitably with the last of the snow came the spring rains. Oi! Mud. I guess one must accept the bitter with the sweet. Anyway, today is beautiful. Temporarily, at least. I think of France without muttering something unprintable to myself. I can even see myself visiting this place again in the distant future.

I’ve got a laugh for you. I’m growing a mustache. As yet it doesn’t amount to much—maybe it never will--but you’d be surprised how much it makes me look like you, Dad.

As yet I’ve received no mail from you written later than the radiogram so I don’t know whether or not you’re receiving my mail or not. I sure hope so. I got quite a kick out of the clippings about Elliot’s pooch. Millions of men involved in such a desperate struggle and then that palooka can pull something like that—Jesus!

I’m surprised I haven’t received any more packages as yet since you mailed them all just about the same time. They’ll probably be along any time now.

I note by the paper that the 3 big cheeses have finished their “momentous” confab. I think we’d all be better off if all 3 of ‘em were in hell. I wonder if they ever really accomplish anything with these meetings.

The news these days seems damned good even if not as sensational as it was a week or so ago. However, the darned Jerries around here don’t seem too downhearted. They still shoot at me now and then.

I’ll close now with a gentle hint—How about a box of candy or cookies—subtle, huh? Lots of love—in fact.

Bestus Love,
Bill

Letter 175- February 6, 1945

February 6, 1945
(France)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

Yesterday I received a radiogram from you and it certainly made me feel rotten. Evidently you’re not getting any mail from me and I know how worried you must be but the worst of it is that there’s not a damned thing I can do about it. Generally it’s too cold, too wet—just impossible to write except when I’m back for a rest or in a house or building. My paper gets all wet or the officers are too busy to censor them or a combination of these things hinder my letter writing. As it is I don’t know when I’ll be able to answer your radiogram. Maybe in a few days, I hope.

It’s been a week again since I’ve written but not a “helluva” lot has happened in the interim. The weather here has turned better or worse as you will have it. The weather is warmer and that’s good, but it’s raining, the snow’s melting and the ground is thawing—mud; that’s bad, but “pozzitivle”.

The news is sure heartening these days. I guess the damn thing could end anytime but it possibly won’t; stubborn cusses, these damn Dutchmen. It looks as if I’m going home by way of the Suez Canal anyway.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 166- December 26, 1944

December 26, 1944
(France; V-Mail)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

This probably won’t be a very long letter because it’s still pretty cold and my fingers will probably get stiff. Yesterday was Christmas, of course; but one would hardly know it. Still, for the front lines it wasn’t too bad. It was clear and sunny all day though the temp. hardly got above 32◦ all day long. We had a nice Crhistmas dinner (look how I spelled that) but there wasn’t enough. I got a neck. We had enough potatoes, cranberries, beets, raison pie, bread and butter, apple butter, & hard candy, however. Later in the evening I got 2 cans of American beer & some cocktail peanuts. Beer and peanuts is a good combination and I really enjoyed it. Then this morning I got a chance to buy 7 bars of American candy; Hershey almonds, Butterfingers, etc.—the first since I left England. I’ve only one bar left. You guessed it, no packages yet. However, one of the other kids got a nice fruitcake and gave me two nice pieces, and to overwork “nice” completely, I think it was damned “nice” of him. I figure that whenever the package comes that’s Christmas.

(con’t)

Letter 161- December 13, 1944

December 13, 1944
(France; V-Mail)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

If this doesn’t look like my handwriting it’s because I cut my thumb and am holding my pen between my second and third fingers.

Not much to write today except that they’ve got us back in training. All morning we ran up and down hill putting on a demonstration for the rest of the battalion. It was very instructive but tiring. However, one can never learn too much when it comes to war sooo--.

It hasn’t rained all day today and yesterday evening the sun shone for a couple of hours. I still can’t believe it.

No mail for 3 days now. It wouldn’t be so bad if the postal people didn’t brag so much about getting the mail through. Just like Hollywood, bragging about the new movies they send overseas. The one I saw last night I saw before I came in the army.

End of paper.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 140- October 23, 1944

October 23, 1944
(England)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

Due to circumstances far beyond my control but much to my liking, the company doesn’t have to train today. Therefore this letter is being written in the early morning instead of in the evening as usual.

To start off with the weather as is customary—it stinks. An ice cold wind is blowing puffs of equally cold rain in about 8 directions at once. It’s really “mizzleble”. I’m sure glad I’m inside by a nice warm fire instead of battling with the elements.

I got your letter of the eleventh, Dad. You know more about Chester than I ever did. However, about that strawberry and cream complexion; that must have been before malnutrition set in. I did see those timbered houses and cathedral.

I was sorry to hear that Bob Brewer got wounded. The face and neck is a hellova place to get it too.

Boy I’m sure glad to see Hanson get it. That S.O.B. should. When I think of all the guys over here in far worse shape than that rat I really boil.

That’s a “hellova’ note that you can’t get cigarettes. We can get about 7 packs a week, sometimes 10. That’s not bad. Here’s the rub. According to Stars and Stripes there’s god knows how many millions of packs sitting on the docks over here rotting for lack of transportation. Ridiculous, isn’t it? I received the stamps. Thanks a lot.

About that allotment, it’s a $15.00 class “E” allotment. I took it out at Camp Reynolds. I don’t need much money over here—nothing to buy!

I’ll write again soon.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 139

October 22, 1944
(England)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I promised you I’d write a nice long letter tonight, but sure don’t feel like it now. I’ve been washing all day long and now I feel like a limp wet rag. Washing heavy stuff like fatigues in a pail is no soft job. I plan to go to the movies tonight not that there’s anything worth seeing but I gotta do sumpin’ to keep from going nuts. It hasn’t been much of a day; rainy, dark, gloomy. It’s not unusual but still I never feel like doing anything. To be truthful I ain’t never gonna like this country. I really feel sorry for the British. They’re stuck with it.

I’ve been trying to get some Christmas cards for about a week now but the P.X. seems to be out. I’ll probably be able to get some by tomorrow. Better close now. Not much of a letter but I’m in “sortofa” funk.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 134- October 17, 1944-2

October 17, 1944 (2)
(England)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

This is the second of two letters I’ve written today. Since I finished the first one and dropped it in the mailbox I received six letters from you. I probably wouldn’t have written this one except for a small phrase at the end of one of them. It was “thanks for the letters last week.” Suddenly I realized what a heel I’ve been. I’ve started out more letters with-“I’ve been too busy to write.” Baloney! The real reason was I was just too goddamn lazy to make the time. Really I’m sorry. I want you to remind me of this note every time I let up on my writing and if I miss a single day you’ll know something really important will have happened.

I was sure glad to get that mail. One was dated September 6 and one was dated October 5. All in all they must cover all the letters I’ve had coming. From the questions and so forth that you asked, I should be able to write a dozen letters.

I’m on guard tonight and is it a godawful night for cold, wind and rain. The weather up here wasn’t half bad when I first arrived but now—Phooey! I’ll be on four hours straight and then I’ll be through.

Well, I’ve got quite some time before I’ve got to be at the guardhouse, but I don’t know what to do. Think I’ll get a little shuteye.

Best love,
Bill

P.S. - Mother, you get rid of that cold.
Bill

Letter 132- October 11, 1944

October 11, 1944
(England)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

God, what a day this has been. From early this morning to late this evening the wind blew like a damned hurricane and the rain comes down in torrents. Five minutes after we fell out this morning I was sopped and that’s the way I remained all day long. Cold as an iceberg and wet as could be I felt like a “pore mizzable” drowned rat all day long. My shoes actually filled up with water to the ankles and my pants were soaked all the way to my –er-hips. If I didn’t have a damned good constitution I’d be dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of fellows won’t be sick tomorrow as it is. And you used to bawl me out for going out without a hat on. It’s really funny.

I’m beginning to get some of my back mail now. Some of it must have come over by rowboat. You sent me some of the letters over a month ago.

To top off a perfectly horrible day we’re having a perfectly beautiful evening. There’s not a cloud in the sky and the stars are shining like a million and one jewels. It’s brisk and breezy but not too much so. I just got back from a stroll and its right to make one sleepy. In fact I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open right now. That’s as good a cue as any for me to sign off. Bet you think this is a helluva letter. It is.



Best love,
Bill