15 July 1945

Dear Mom,

Well, here we are again, Mom! This time I will attempt to answer your letter [from] July 9. First, there seems to be not much or nothing of interest around here that might interest you about me, except that the chances that I might be coming home one of these days are still about slim as ever. Maybe I’ll make it sometime in the next three, four or five years. But all kidding aside, I think the situation right now doesn’t seem too bad, and it could be considerably worse, that is if I adopt my usual optimistic attitude, and I am in this instance, because if I don’t I could make life very unbearable for myself [since] there is no use in purposely trying to find things to [whine] about. But, as I was telling Barbie, I think I might see up to six more months here, possibly go to the O.A.F. (Occupational Air Force) in Germany for not more than a year, and then, let’s hope, it’s homebound. And if my luck is really good, I might even come right home and be stationed in the States for a little while and then get discharged, but I think that is a little more on the optimistic side than is safe to rely on. And for that matter I advise you to take any and all such suppositions or speculations that I make with more than a little grain of salt, because looking at it from one point of view there is little or nothing that I know about that you can’t figure out for yourself. So Mom, just try to use a little discretion before you build up our hopes too much, as I know you are accustomed to doing anyhow. Typists have been declared essential and they aren’t going to let them out of the Army now, if they have 85 points or more, and the Army figures they need them to dispense with the paperwork of discharging the rest of the soldiers, but this little boy doesn’t want any part of that. And besides, they try to put C.R.S. behind another one of these contraptions that I am trying to use now, and I am afraid that all of a sudden I would have forgotten to remember just how to use the darn thing, even though I have used one for about a year on this base. The old peepers are not what they used to be. And the way that I see it now, there is no sense in kidding myself that they are going to be alright when if they get any worse. Well I have only one pair of them, and I don’t feel like playing hero to the Army when I have my whole life ahead of me to consider; I think that is the way that you would want to have me thing, n’est-ce pas le vrai, s’il vous plait? Gosh, Mom I wonder if this typewriter is just doing all this skipping between the words because my thumb is a little bit heavy or maybe the machine just doesn’t feel like working right for a box manipulator. Incidentally, how is the little pet of mine at home coming along? Is the Underwood Jr. hitting on all fours? If you once knew how to type, maybe you would like to try to use the touch system on it, instead of the hunt find and peck system. And then maybe the individual keys wouldn’t take such a beating and work themselves loose, but not that I really care too much. Probably the less I see of any typewriter once I come home, the better I will feel about the whole thing.

I certainly am pleased to hear about the progress of the flower garden. And I am sure that it will really look like something right out of this world when I return, that is if too many of the deer and the cows and the whatnots don’t mess around in our flower garden. Barbie said that she managed to get up there one day and she hinted that I might be so pleased with the way my home [is] now, the way that you have fixed it up, that I may forget that I ever wanted to marry her. But I guess she realized that she was just giving in to her jealous urge, instead of meaning it seriously, but I kind of got a laugh out of it. I bet she isn’t far from right, if your letters are giving me any idea at all of just what you are making for a permanent home out of the old farm. I think that if I ever can afford it, I will try to build a home over on top of the big hill across from the farm. But it will be windy over there in the wintertime…and nice in the summertime. And it will be nice and handy to the road and the electric line, which I think are the main factors which make me feel that that would be the best location. Although, like you have truly said, I may make all my dreams and enjoy making them [come true] and thinking about all of them, they may never turn out just like I had planned and dreamed them to, but that is just another one of those things, that’s all. I wouldn’t expect them to turn out like I had dreamed them, because then there wouldn’t be any difference between dreams and the real thing, and I am sure one for waiting to enjoy surprises. In the same thought, a person has to take a lot of troubles on the chin, but that is just the same, looking at the whole thing from a broad-minded, philosophic attitude.

Say, here’s a little something that I have been wondering about lately. According to the Stars and Stripes, Massachusetts has declared a $300 state bonus for discharged veterans from that state, but I probably won’t come in on that because I was not drafted from that state. It just seems no matter how a fellow looks at it, the Army of someone is out to screw him, but that money that I would get isn’t going to come from nowhere -- just out of my pocket in the form of taxes later on, or out of somebody’s now. Three-hundred smackeroos just sure would feel good in my pocket, in addition to the $300 the Army claims they might let us have. But I have saved more than a little, thank the Good Lord, and I would have saved more, if they weren’t so stingy with the ratings around here. Sure, a lot of fellows have waited longer and worked harder for an advancement than me, and didn’t get it altogether too soon, but I’ll wager for every one of them there are about three or four that have gotten the ratings because they got a break or they know the right people and they could play the politics of it right. But that is the whole story of a certain aspect of why this darn old war might last longer than necessary. Because too many officers never had it so good as in the Army and now that they are making money hand over fist, they see no reason why they should do all within their power to end this war quick with a minimum loss of American blood. But I guess that is just one of the evils that exist, and there will always be evil on this earth, regardless of what is done to prevent it. Of course, I don’t like to think that, but it doesn’t seem possible to suffer under the illusion that “The Lord Will Provide,” at least not when I see going on in front of my own eyes the contradiction of that old proverb.

But please forgive me, Mother dear, I didn’t write this letter just to tell you how much I hate this Army. But I guess if I didn’t have an understanding Mom like you to gripe and talk with, well, I might blow my top and do something rash. I should be coming home one of these days soon, I feel quite sure of that -- it’s a matter of a year and some months, I think if you want an optimistic speculation. The Pacific War seems to be coming along just as well as any normal person could expect, and I am perfectly happy and content with my lot, but I naturally miss you all very very much. Some day we can look back on all this, and if I am lucky, I think that I will be able to forget the whole darn mess. I am sure that I will when I see what you are preparing for me when I return [to] the farm and all. God bless you all, and please give my love and remembrance to everyone. And here’s a nice big friendly kiss for my dearest love, My Own Dear Mother.

Your loving son,

Chuck