February 29, 1944
Dear Mom
It looks like we're done for the
day so a letter to you. No sea bag yet and I've been sleeping in dungarees and
trying to save those the last 2 pairs of socks. It has its advantages though no
fuss and bother with clothing inspections. This crew
don't compare with those in the other platoon at P.I. A couple of Southerners
(real poor whites) are jamming things up but we'll shift around for a while yet
and see what we can see. Weiss's address is in my bag or home so when you answer
let me know what it is. Might be in that box of letters I left home. Call Mrs.
Weiss, it'll be more simple. Nothing to do tonight (I
hope) so I'll write a lot of long letters. Strange, what a
pleasure writing can be when there's nothing else to do. This paper I
found in an empty tent so I might as well use everything that is free. Oh Yes!
Those pictures I had taken at that studio-do me a favor and don't display them
in the front room or show them to anybody-they're yours and nobody else’s. They
probably don't look too good anyway and since I didn't seen
them myself why it's a good idea to keep them out of sight. Guess the neighbors
are fully satisfied as to texture of cloth and fit of a Marine's issue uniform.
There's something else I wanted to mention but it keeps slipping my mind next
time it breaks out I'll tie a string around my finger to remember. Had a
roistering time on that furlough but should have spent more time around the
house. Oh Well, when the war's over you'll get sick of looking at me. I'm
going to try to get into the detective bureau or some kind of plain clothes
duty because these damn uniforms are a nuisance after awhile. Too bad Frank was
so busy when I was there otherwise he and I could have had some fun. He's a
swell guy and it looks as though Viola nailed him for good. Had
more fun talking and drinking with Mr. Weiss. He and I get along pretty
good. You didn't look any too good when I was home, a combination of flu and
worry about me no doubt. Hope you feel better about now that I'm gone cause as you say you always worry about me. Wrote Donny a
letter about something we cooked up and from now on she'll be the engineer on
the job. All those letters from Weiss, you, Betty, Schager
and whoever else that are in that box, keep for me. They'll be fun reading
someday. These guys are all wild about getting off the base to one of these
little towns to drink and fool around. The idea don't
appeal to me so I'll stay around here and as I said write. It's been raining
off and on but not a real soaking one. Sounds like chow call now so there
may be an interruption pretty soon. One thing about this place though, I threw
away more food since I been here than I had in 9 weeks at P.I. Guess they want
to fatten us up for the future. We were issued tools to eat with so don't use
fingers anymore.
Chow came and went and I now find myself in sole possession
of Tent 35-rest of the 15 men in it are off to a
carouse in Kingston and Washington-towns
off the base. It’s about 7.00 Saturday night now and they don't have to be in
until 5:30 Monday morning so I hold the fort alone. All they'll do is drink,
look for women or sleep in Hotels. I'm satisfied here. Wonder if you'll ever
get that hound you want. There's lots of bird dogs down here mostly pointers
though. If you do get him, he'll make an awful mess out of what’s left of the
yard with the summer coming on and smell it up beside. But if you want him bad
enough, get him by all means because you like a dog for company and they are
good companions. A word of caution though, don't let
him interfere with Tom’s happy home. That cat has considerable superiority
rights around there. Isn't much I can say about life in Tent City
except that I eat sleep and live like everybody else and
toy incessantly with a machine gun. The place seems
kind of quiet without the other 15 arguing about something-one just blew in
late on his way to shave and clean up before leaving. Right at this moment it's
the quietest I've ever heard it in the Marine Cops anyplace-naturally, they're
all gone. Newburgh
would be an example of order and sanity compared with this place
especially when an outfit mones out. Half a dozen
times I've thought of dropping Jimmy O'Brien a postcard but it always seems a
though when writing time comes somebody else has priority. I have a regular
priority list made up. You are No. 1 Frank and Henry are 2nd and
whoever else gets one can consider themselves exceeding-by fortunate-so be it.
If you notice I wonder a bit it’s because I haven't a lot to day and each
thought goes down on paper as it comes to mind. For dinner (supper), the
last 2 nights I ate like a pig-here you can have all you want and nobody kicks
about what's thrown away. The only disadvantage about this mob being away is
that I'll have to clean up the whole place myself tomorrow. So it'll be a
session with a mob and broom for a while tomorrow. After I finish this, I'll
write to Frank then grab a much needed shower and wash tomorrow. We have a
former professional football player as a machine gun instructor and he's a real
nice guy, knows his stuff too. Later on I'll try for a transfer to a rifle
platoon because I like it better than these noisy little devils. Just about
everybody that I knew in Cleveland
seemed glad to see me back, and it was a real thrill to see my name on the
honor roll in front of Central Police Station. Also a strange
feeling to ride street cars and buses free of charge. I'll start a
letter to Frank now, and should be able to finish that by 10'oclock. This has
been a long one to you cause I write small and there's
almost 2 pages of it. I wish this damn war was over so I could resume civilian
life again and get busy on the C.P.D. Donnie sounded like she was glad to
hear I got it. She sure is a swell girl, I'd be proud to have somebody
like her for a sister. Say hello to Mollie and Pearl, the Schagers,
Millers, Aunt Mame etc. Remember to take care
of yourself as best you can since your best seems none to good. Don't
forget now.
Lots
of Love,
Bun