''Dear Folks'': A Soldier's Letters to His Family in World War Ii

By Andrew Metal

Dear Folks is a collection of letters written by a young soldier to his family during World War II from his first day at an Army Reception Center to his last, leaving Frankfort, Germany, Headquarters of the US Army of Occupation. These letters read like a diary depicting a GIs daily experience in basic training at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma, assignment as a clerk in a bureaucratic outfit at Ft. Meade, Maryland where daily hundreds of citizen soldiers were processed in anticipation of the D-day invasion, and the further adventures of this soldier in wartime Paris on assignment with the War Department Observers Board accompanying his Colonel who was on a special reporting mission covering the Armored Divisions in battles across Western Europe.

The letters cover in astonishing detail the daily routine of the GI at two major military installations, the relatively luxurious life of a GI in recently liberated Paris and the less than glamorous life of the GI on the battle front following Pattons Army across Northern France and Germany with revealing accounts of local reaction to both Allied conquests and the final liberation of the city of Pilsen, Czechoslovakia. Its an intimate history of World War II life and culture recording the popular music and movies of the time, the cost of common, everyday items of purchase and foremost, the general attitude to wartime life by both the GI and their civilian relatives.

The very personal content of the original letters has been edited out but enough retained to reveal the close family ties of the soldier and the warm family support. This is history experienced by one teen-age soldier in World War II told in his own words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 16, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469112930

Andrew Metal

Andrew Metal was born and raised in Pennsylvania; the family moved to Cleveland, Ohio in 1942. Following military service he received a BA degree from the University of Colorado and later an MA from Eastern New Mexico University. After graduating from college he entered the US Foreign Service with assignments in Prague, Curacao and Calcutta. Metal is married and has been a resident of New Mexico since 1962. He retired from the New Mexico Department of Labor in 1989 after 23 years service and currently resides in Cochiti Lake, New Mexico.

Book preview

Dear Folks

A SOLDIER’S LETTERS

TO HIS FAMILY

IN WORLD WAR II

Andrew Metal

Copyright © 2000 by Andrew Metal.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-7-XLIBRIS

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

Contents

Ft. Hayes, Columbus, Ohio  

14 October 1943  

15 October 1943  

16 October 1943  

18 October 1943  

19 October 1943  

21 October 1943  

27 October 1943  

29 October 1943  

3 November 1943  

8 November 1943  

15 November 1943  

16 November 1943  

Ft. Sill,

Oklahoma  

17 November, 1943  

18 November 1943  

19 November 1943  

20 November 1943  

21 November 1943  

22 November 1943  

23 November 1943  

24 November 1943  

25 November 1943  

26 November 1943  

28 November 1943  

29 November 1943  

30 November 1943  

1 December 1943  

2 December 1943  

4 December 1943  

5 December 1943  

6 December 1943  

7 December 1943  

8 December 1943  

9 December 1943  

11 December 1943  

12 December 1943  

13 December 1943  

14 December 1943  

15 December 1943  

16 December 1943  

17 December 1943  

18 December 1943  

19 December 1943  

19 December 1943  

20 December 1943  

21 December 1943  

23 December 1943  

24 December 1943  

25 December 1943  

26 December 1943  

27 December 1943  

28 December 1943  

29 December 1943  

30 December 1943   

2 January 1944  

3 January 1944  

4 January 1944  

5 January 1944  

6 January 1944  

8 January 1944  

9 January 1944  

11 January 1944  

12 January 1944   

13 January 1944  

14 January 1944  

15 January 1944  

16 January 1944  

17 January 1944  

19 January 1944  

20 January 1944  

21 January 1944  

23 January 1944  

24 January 1944  

25 January 1944  

27 January 1944  

28 January 1944  

29 January 1944  

30 January 1944  

31 January 1944  

1 February 1944  

2 February 1944  

3 February 1944  

4 February 1944  

6 February 1944  

7 February 1944  

9 February 1944  

10 February 1944  

13 February 1944  

15 February 1944  

16 February 1944  

17 February 1944  

18 February 1944  

20 February 1944  

22 February 1944  

23 February 1944  

24 February 1944  

25 February 1944  

27 February 1944  

28 February 1944  

29 February 1944  

1 March 1944  

2 March 1944  

3 March 1944  

5 March 1944  

6 March 1944  

7 March 1944  

8 March 1944  

9 March 1944  

10 March 1944  

12 March 1944  

13 March 1944  

14 March 1944  

15 March 1944  

16 March 1944  

17 March 1944  

19 March 1944  

20 March 1944  

21 March 1944  

22 March 1944  

23 March 1944  

24 March 1944  

26 March 1944  

Fort Meade, Maryland  

6 April 1944   

7 April 1944  

10 April 1944  

14 April 1944  

17 April 1944  

17 April 1944  

19 April 1944 (Morning)  

19 April 1944 (Evening)  

20 April 1944  

21 April 1944  

22 April 1944  

23 April 1944  

25 April 1944  

RESTRICTED—CONFIDENTIAL  

26 April 1944  

27 April 1944  

29 April 1944  

1 May 1944  

2 May 1944  

3 May 1944  

4 May 1944  

5 May 1944  

8 May 1944  

9 May 1944  

10 May 1944  

11 May 1944  

12 May 1944  

13 May 1944  

15 May 1944  

16 May 1944  

17 May 1944  

18 May 1944  

20 May 1944  

23 May 1944  

(Review in brief)  

25 May 1944  

26 May 1944  

28 May 1944  

31 May 1944  

1 June 1944  

5 June 1944  

7 June 1944  

7 June 1944  

9 June 1944  

11 June 1944  

14 June 1944  

15 June 1944  

16 June 1944  

17 June 1944  

18 June 1944  

19 June 1944  

20 June 1944  

23 June 1944  

24 June 1944  

26 June 1944  

27 June 1944  

30 June 1944  

5 July 1944  

9 July 1944  

12 July 1944  

19 July 1944  

20 July 1944  

23 July 1944  

27 July 1944  

1 August 1944  

6 August 1944  

9 August 1944  

24 August 1944  

26 August 1944  

28 August 1944  

The Sutton Hotel  

2 September 1944  

4 September 1944  

September 5, 1944  

6 September 1944  

7 September 1944  

9 September 1944  

11 September 1944  

13 September 1944  

Somewhere in England  

18 September 1944  

24 September 1944  

European Theatre

of Operations  

26 September 1944  

26 September 1944  

28 September 1944  

30 September 1944  

2 October 1944  

3 October 1944  

5 October 1944  

8 October 1944  

11 October 1944  

15 October 1944  

18 October 1944  

23 October 1944  

30 October 1944  

31 October 1944  

15 November 1944  

16 November 1944  

17 November 1944  

21 November 1944  

22 November 1944  

23 November 1944  

24 November 1944  

26 November 1944  

27 November 1944  

28 November 1944  

29 November 1944  

2 December 1944  

18 December 1944  

18 December 1944  

19 December 1944  

21 December 1944  

21 December 1944  

22 December 1944  

23 December 1944  

26 December 1944  

27 December 1944  

30 December 1944  

1 January 1945  

2 January 1945  

17 January 1945  

18 January 1945  

19 January 1945  

21 January 1945  

22 January 1945  

24 January 1945  

26 January 1945  

28 January 1945  

31 January 1945  

18 February 1945  

20 February 1945  

22 February 1945  

24 February 1945  

26 February 1945  

1 March 1945  

2 March 1945  

3 March 1945  

20 March 1945  

21 March 1945  

22 March 1945  

24 March 1945  

24 March 1945  

26 March 1945  

29 March 1945  

7 April 1945  

10 April 1945  

23 April 1945  

24 April 19  

26 April 1945  

27 April 1945  

29 April 1945  

1 May 1945  

2 May 1945  

5 May 1945  

6 May 1945  

7 May 1945  

9 May 1945  

9 May 1945  

24 May 1945  

25 May 1945  

27 May 1945  

30 May 1945  

1 June 1945  

3 June 1945  

6 June 1945  

8 June 1945

Wiesbaden, Germany  

11 June 1945

Aalen, Germany  

14 June 1945

Garmisch-Partenkirchen  

17 June 1945  

19 June 1945

Wiesbaden, Germany  

21 June 1945  

23 June 1945  

25 June 1945  

27 June 1945  

30 June 1945  

1 July 1945  

4 July 1945  

5 July 19  

9 July 1945

Bad Nauheim, Germany  

11 July 1945

Hardheim, Germany  

17 July 1945

Rheims, France  

18 July 1945  

20 July 1945  

23 July 1945  

26 July 1945  

29 July 1945   

31 July 1945  

3 August 1945  

5 August 1945  

7 August 1945  

9 August 1945  

12 August 1945  

14 August 1945  

15 August 1945  

18 August 1945  

19 August 1945  

24 August 1945  

25 August 1945  

30 August 1945  

2 September 1945  

4 September 1945  

7 September 1945  

13 September 1945  

15 September 1945  

17 September 1945  

19 September 1945  

22 September 1945  

25 September 1945  

28 September 1945  

30 September 1945  

Shrivenham, England  

3 October 1945  

4 October 1945

Morning  

4 October 1945

Afternoon  

9 October 194  

15 October 1945  

18 October 1945  

22 October 1945  

24 October 1945  

29 October 1945  

1 November 1945  

5 November 1945  

8 November 1945  

12 November 1945  

19 November 1945  

26 November 1945  

28 November 1945  

3 December 1945  

7 December 1945  

12 December 1945  

14 December 1945  

22 December 1945

Paris, France  

Frankfurt-on-Main,

Germany  

27 December 1945  

31 December 1945  

2 January 1946  

4 January 1946  

7 January 1946  

10 January 1946  

16 January 1946  

17 January 1946  

22 January 1946  

25 January 1946  

28 January 1946  

31 January 1946  

5 February 1946  

9 February 1946  

11 February 1946  

16 February 1946  

22 February 1946  

25 February 1946  

28 February 1946  

1 March 1946  

20 March 1946  

22 March 1946  

23 March 1946  

Ft. Hayes, Columbus, Ohio  

14 October to

16 November 1943

14 October 1943  

At 3:00 this afternoon I arrived in Columbus. But to start at the beginning—I’m glad our good-byes were fast, without time for shedding tears. It was a dull ride through Ohio’s flat farmlands and I didn’t cry.

The main station is only a twenty minute walk from Fort Hayes which appeared to me like building a camp in Madison Park surrounded by private homes. Our first stop was with the Medics for a brief examination, very brief. Then to the mess hall where a lot of food was thrown, and I do mean thrown into our metal trays. It was a lot of food but not very appetizing. But then, how could anyone make a ton of liver hash appetizing. Anyway, I wasn’t hungry as we got a dried up lunch on the train.

Our processing started with a handout of two blankets, two sheets, a pillow case and instructions on how to make a bunk. Would you believe I had a tough time mastering this complicated first assignment.

We are now on our own and I’m on my bunk writing this letter. The lights in this long, narrow barrack are dim, creating a gloom that could make one feel very lonely. But I am not yet homesick. The camp is exactly what I had anticipated. I’m neither disappointed nor exactly thrilled. The guys are all a friendly bunch so I’m not dreading Army life.

Tomorrow I get my uniform and that should be another story.

15 October 1943  

We were called at five this morning, by another recruit, as the bugler can’t be heard in this barrack. It was cold and I shivered my way to another barrack to wash up. Before breakfast we had to make our beds, sweep and mop the floor. For breakfast there was a sort of eggs, mushy, like I hate them along with grapes, potatoes, bread, butter, milk, coffee and cereal. The Army is sure generous with the butter, small wonder civilians can’t get it.

I can’t continue processing for shots, tests, uniform and such until my blood test report from the Cleveland Induction Center arrives. Those not in uniform can’t leave the campgrounds and this makes me mad. At this rate the war can be over before I even get started in training.

We are not given much to do here and there is very little discipline, except for the half hour lecture on military courtesy. They had us carry out our beds for airing and police the grounds which means picking up trash. I don’t much care for the lingo here like chow for meals and latrine for toilets. Since all the guys are new here they feel the same, disgruntled, bored and maybe a bit apprehensive. Last night the kid sleeping across from me talked in his sleep and another guy, maybe in his thirties, slept in pajamas. Lights out at nine o’clock but we can come in and stay up as we like. Tonight it is raining and the dim lights and gloom of the barrack sort of gives me the creeps. But don’t get me wrong, this Army experience is all right.

16 October 1943  

I did get my uniform today and I’m thrilled to death. Again, I was up at five and it was freezing cold. I waste no time jumping right out of bed at the rise and shine call. Some of the guys have to be dragged out by the MPs. Making the bed is simple enough after all but I try not to mess it up through the night for easier making in the morning.

The food is sure plentiful and the butter keeps coming. One-half pound per table per meal, with 60 tables in the mess hall. It is a fortune the government pays to feed the eight million man Army. SO BUY BONDS to pay for it.

Today we went through Finance. I took a $10,000 insurance policy, $5,000 each for mom and dad as beneficiaries at a monthly premium of $6.50. Single persons without dependents are almost compelled to buy a bond a month. I designated dad a co-owner rather than a beneficiary. This way he can cash-in the bonds if needed without my permission. They are as good as cash.

After Finance came clothing issue. Starting naked we went down the line picking up items of clothing starting with long woolen underwear. They itch… I swear I’ll never wear them. In all, I got 80 pounds of clothes and equipment and it wasn’t fun hauling it on my shoulder for four blocks. But I didn’t change shoulders as some guys did.

The afternoon we spent watching movies, military courtesy again, army organization, the Articles of War and hygiene, the latter gruesome and sickening which I would never want to watch again.

After evening mess a bunch of us dressed in our new uniforms to go out on the town. I wish you could see me in uniform. You’d be proud. Walking to town we tried dodging officers as we can’t recognize all of the ranks we must salute. Some officers will give you a talking down right on the street. We finally ended up at the USO. Not bad, with reading and recreation rooms, games, and music for dancing which was kinda dumb.

I don’t know how I will feel later but so far I’m in love with the Army and wouldn’t trade it for civilian days. I suppose it will get tougher later but I don’t care. If everybody else can take it so can I. If mom knew how satisfied I feel she wouldn’t cry.

18 October 1943  

My buddies, Don and Ed and I spent all day Sunday, that is, after mass, at the YWCA and USO where a young woman did a crayon sketch of me. It is flattering, making me look more like 25. I also danced but I wasn’t comfortable with the girls who were all older than me. I felt like the kid in the movie Stage Door Canteen. Hereafter, I’ll be going to town only on weekends, staying in week days to study my Soldier’s Handbook.

I was called for KP at four this morning, Monday, but got out of it when I told the Corporal I hadn’t finished with tests and shots. This was a big day with classification tests, General Ability, Mechanical and Radio. I scored only average or slightly above on each, finding them pretty hard. These were followed by skill tests in typing and shorthand. I typed 56 wpm and even feeling shaky I took the dictation at 100 and read it all back. On a retest I made it at 120 wpm and the Sergeant reported me skilled which seemed quite an accolade for an 18 year old. For assignment he recorded Special Service Unit 213 with a tag Attention—Sgt. Lander. There is now a possibility of my staying here at Fort Hayes indefinitely.

Inoculations were the last activity for the day. It didn’t hurt at the time given but it hurts pretty hard now after a few hours. A bunch of boys came in from West Virginia at midnight. From their speech it was easy to tell where they came from.

19 October 1943  

This morning I was informed that I am eligible for the Air Corps as an Aviation Cadet, based on my General Ability test scores. I’m hesitant about volunteering because the next round of tests will be heavy on higher math and physics in which I am weak. The Army might offer me better opportunities than the Air Force ground crews where I would end up.

And the funny part of this news is that I have just been assigned as an assistant to Lt. Col. Maynard, the Flight Officer who is to interview me for the Air Corps this afternoon. This also means that I will remain at Fort Hayes for at least four weeks. Isn’t that swell. I’ll be giving Air Corps volunteers the eye sight test, typing reports and keeping order among these guys as they line up for their exam.

This also means that I will be able to visit home weekends. Keep praying for me that I continue getting these lucky breaks. It was foolish of me to bring so much money. I really don’t need it. I have only to buy soap, tooth powder and other toiletries. Everything is free at the USO and the shows are inexpensive. The fifty dollars I have should last at least four months.

21 October 1943  

My letters will probably be shorter hereafter as my work schedule is routine and have little of interest to write about. I like the Colonel, a real nice guy. I’ve been doing a lot of saluting and am getting used to it, but don’t care much for this military formality.

I didn’t go to breakfast this morning, preferring to sleep. I would rather sleep than eat. It seems you never get enough sleep in the Army.

27 October 1943  

I have been meaning to write you about the Guard House as it has left such a strong impression on me. I frequently see these prisoners identified by a large P printed on the back of their blue denims. They do dirty jobs around the Post always accompanied by armed guards. Their rumpled fatigue caps perhaps exaggerate their remorse, stupefied expressions. It is a pretty awful sight which I try to ignore or avoid. I can’t help wondering how they feel being stared at by almost everyone. I’m told they are given very little time to sleep and rest and eat meals with guards always at their side. The guards are tough on them and I hear that their crimes are primarily misdemeanors like AWOL, gambling, fighting and such. It’s a pitiful sight.

29 October 1943  

Well, this is the Army where anything and everything can and does happen without much notice. New rulings were announced concerning the Air Corps Volunteer Program and it calls for a permanent assistant to the Flight Surgeon. Col. Maynard has remarked that he didn’t want to fool around with the 28 day recruits. He asked me if I would like to stay on but a limited service man is already assigned, which leaves me out. I may stay on for the full 28 days in any case. On the other hand, I could be shipped out any day.

3 November 1943  

Being pretty hungry this morning I decided to try breakfast again. It was as good a breakfast as they serve here but I still didn’t like it. We had the same mushy scrambled eggs. Even watching them being dished out discouraged me from trying to eat them. We also had cold cereal, two salty, dried up sausages, grapes, milk and coffee. I won’t bother again with breakfast while in this camp.

8 November 1943  

I was feeling rather blue today and may stay this way for the rest of my time here at Fort Hayes. Not only did Ed Tyjeski leave but every other fellow who has been here any length of time is gone. I’m probably the longest serving recruit in Company C now and am anxious to leave and most likely will in the next six or so days.

Coming back on the train last night I got a seat with a real talkative soldier from Chicago. Most soldiers seem to want to talk a lot and, of course, I’m no exception. This one made himself sound interesting. He looked about 19 but said he was 24 and had enlisted in the Army because he was heavy in debt and feared for his life. He said he sneaks home late at night when he visits Chicago because he is afraid of being killed or at least badly beaten up. His three brothers are all gamblers, now in the Army, and he was a bookie in civilian life. He showed me pictures of his gang friends and they do look like the Dead End Kids. He didn’t look so tough and may, in fact, be boasting, making up the stories.

Do you remember reading about the capture of Touhy in Chicago a few months ago? He claims to have been at the apartment building where Touhy had been hiding and finally caught. The apartment building was surrounded by cops, tear gassed and machine gunned. Two of Touhy’s buddies were killed but he surrendered, walking out of the apartment in his pajamas under the glare of spot lights and facing a battery of machine guns, half crazed. My talkative friend said he was in the crowd watching all this. Touhy is said to be the last of the big time Chicago gangsters.

As if this wasn’t dramatic enough, this guy said that two of his brothers were present at the St. Valentine’s Day massacre in a Chicago night club. I think I read that this massacre took place in an abandoned garage. I didn’t get my companion’s name but he said his parents were Slovak; may be that figures.

15 November 1943  

I was on the train last night with a fellow I met on the train before, another talkative one who talked all the way. So I didn’t get to sleep at all. He told me in detail what a trainee goes through in basic training. This was at Ft. Riley, Kansas. From the sound of it I sure don’t want to go there. I thought my orders to ship might be in but they weren’t and I am disappointed.

16 November 1943  

It may surprise you that I am writing this letter aboard the train in convoy. I went out on call this morning feeling my shipping orders were out. And sure enough, they were. From then on it was all rushing, without time to call or even to say good bye to the people at the office.

It was an impressive departure from Ft. Hayes and the largest ever from this camp with 200 men leaving. Although not standard procedure here, the band was out playing as we marched to the train. Those remaining in camp were all out to see this mass shipment. The train began moving at exactly 10:03 am and the first phase of my Army life ended and the second, basic training, about to begin.

It was a pleasure to learn that I was being sent to the Field Artillery training camp at Ft. Seale (I don’t know how it is spelled), Oklahoma. I understand that it will be 17 weeks of tough basic training, among the toughest and best, at Ft. Seale. I’m glad, as it should toughen me up, which I want. The training will finish in March so I may be home for Easter. Pray for me and wish me luck.

The weather is nice today, cold, crisp air with big, fat snowflakes falling. The landscape out of Columbus isn’t much different from northern Ohio with its flat, monotonous farmland. Only as we approach Cincinnati did hills appear, with higher hills which might be called mountains across the Ohio River in Kentucky.

The train is a Pullman so we should sleep comfortably. Ft. Sill (that’s how it is spelled) is about a thousand miles from Columbus, a 36 hour ride I’m told. I’m getting excited about this assignment in Oklahoma even though the camp is quite far from the larger cities of Tulsa and Oklahoma City. I wanted to see the country and this beats Georgia, Mississippi, No. Carolina or Alabama. Our lunch consisted of wieners, sauerkraut and potatoes. I was so hungry it actually tasted good. We are scheduled to arrive late tomorrow. I know I won’t be home for a long time but I’m already looking to the day when I do.

Ft. Sill,

Oklahoma  

17 November 1943

to 26 March 1944

17 November, 1943  

Here I am in beautiful Ft. Sill, Oklahoma. I closed my last letter leaving Ohio and entering Indiana, the Hoosier State. The train ran over hill and dale through southern Indiana; nothing impressive as it was little different from Ohio . One small hicktown did amuse me, reminding me of the song In Old Shantytown. It was a settlement of sort of one room shacks of warped shingles, broken windows patched with cardboard and tumbledown porches with roofs so slanted they almost touched the ground. The train stopped for a few minutes while all of the people came out on the porches to see the trainload of soldiers. Quaint.

We began crossing into Illinois about 7 pm; by 10 pm we were in E. St. Louis. I kept looking out through the train window as we crossed the wide Mississippi. Across the river is St. Louis, Missouri. Thus far we have been riding the B&O route, changing now to the Frisco.We left St. Louis at 11 pm. I slept comfortably through most of Missouri. The other kid who was supposed to sleep in my Pullman section was away so I had the entire lower berth to myself along with two pillows and all the covers. I insisted on a lower berth as the upper had no windows and I had to look out.

I was up at 6 am and watched daylight replace the dark. I can get sentimental about the beautiful scenes found along the way, like the old farm house and windmill silhouetted against the dark blue sky. Missouri seemed more attractive than the previous states we passed through. We traveled near the Ozarks but not through the mountains. But Oklahoma proved the most interesting. About 70 miles from the Missouri border we stopped at Claremore, the hometown of Will Rogers. Everything there is named after him, the county, streets, hotels and what have you. He was actually born in another small town but spent most of his early years in Claremont and went to school there.

In Tulsa we stopped for a 15 minute break and were not permitted to go beyond the railroad platform. Tulsa looked clean and new. With the exception of the vast, monotonous plains, Oklahoma is an attractive state. Parts did remind me of The Grapes of wrath, the barren land, little vegetation, eroded red clay soil. We passed cotton fields with the bolls still on the plant. It was cold and snowing when we left Ohio but here it is warm. All through Oklahoma I stood on the platform between the cars to get a clear view of the landscape. It may seem childish but standing in the open like that I had the urge to wave at everyone passing. And I felt disappointed when the wave was not returned.

Our next large city, Oklahoma City, is even more attractive than Tulsa with its skyline of modern buildings. Since they are newer these western cities are all nicer than eastern cities. Oklahoma City isn’t more than 50 years old. It is very obvious that Oklahoma is an oil state with an oil derrick visible every 25 or so yards approaching the city. It is said that there is an oil well right in the center of downtown.

The latest official report is that we are 90 miles from Ft. Sill. We are still in plains country and one town, Mustang, looked like a town out of a western movie. We are beginning to see military activity; trucks rolling, airplanes flying, soldiers firing large artillery pieces, fired shots of all sorts in the air. These are men in field training but it looked like a real battle. Our 1150 mile trip finally ended and we arrived at beautiful Ft. Sill. It was exciting with a band playing and trucks with WAC drivers lined up to take us to our barracks.

When I say Ft. Still is beautiful I am not exaggerating. When filled it has a population of 25,000 and covers thousands of acres. There are hundreds of buildings, paved highways, a large airport and fields, fields and more fields. The buildings are a cream color and are surrounded by nice lawns, trees, shrubs, and rose bushes still in bloom. I am now in a two-story building, on the second floor. It is very clean and neat and smells of new wood. It’s a garden spot I tell you with red and white picket fences around the lawns. The mess halls even have curtains on the windows. But I have seen only a small part of Ft. Sill, the Replacement Center. I’m told the Old Fort is even nicer. There are seven movie theatres here all playing first run pictures. Two current movies are Northern Pursuit with Errol Flynn and Guadacanal Diary. The main theatre at the Old Fort has cushioned seats and everything. There are seven churches, I think, small white steepled buildings resembling eastern country churches.

On arrival we were assigned our beds, given chow and then left alone to do what we please. By the way, we arrived at 6:15 pm at the Fort, making it 32 hours of travel. I am a long way from home but feel I am near all of you. But I will miss you more than ever. Ft Hayes was near to home compared to Ft. Sill but I am not the least sorry to have been sent here. I intended to call up but the phones were packed with a wait of about 2 hours for a line to get through. And it costs so much and I might not be able to hear well. I’ll try to call on Thanksgiving and Christmas.

You probably haven’t gotten a letter from me for a couple of days but as soon as things clear up you’ll be getting one every day.

18 November 1943  

Here at Ft. Sill we don’t have to get up until 6 am which suits me fine. I watched the sun rise which began with a rainbow colored horizon, red, yellow and blue followed by a big red sun creeping up from the horizon. It makes you just feel like singing, Oh What A Beautiful Morning.

We had chow at 7:30 this morning, eating out of our mess kits. Already I can see we won’t be getting the good food we had at Ft. Hayes. But the Lieutenant said rations are calculated such that if everything is eaten there is enough to keep good and healthy. We had spinach last night, beets and a piece of boiled bacon. This is one of those camps where you don’t get any butter, or seldom.

After chow we were taken outside, instructed on forming ranks and marched to a field for exercise, brief exercises to give us an idea of what’s coming. I liked it. The weather for this session was perfect; the sky a gorgeous blue without a single cloud in sight. Mornings and evenings here are cool but afternoons warm. I made it here in a good season as winters are at their worse in February and March and summers are said to be scorching.

We are not permitted to leave camp for two weeks after which we will receive a Class A pass to leave the post. Lights go out at 9:30 pm; bed check at midnight week-days and 2:30 am on Saturdays. We can go to Lawton which is only 4 miles away with busses running to town. It has a population of some 19,000. Weekend passes will also be issued but we are not allowed to go more than 50 miles. . But I am not going to mind being here, there is plenty to do. Our basic training officially begins on Monday and will last 17 weeks. That takes us into March. I will read, study, go to movies and my four months stay here should be a great experience. I have a don’t give a damn feeling and am looking forward to the next 17 weeks.

This afternoon we were marched to the Classification Center for another interview. This is where they place you in your future job. The interviewer I had was a very pleasant sort of guy. He looked at my card, asked me what my interests were and volunteered that he studied journalism at Columbia University for two years and had Erskine Caldwell, the author of Tobacco Road as an instructor. He spoke of how raw Caldwell talked to his co-ed class. I suppose I impressed him some because he commented that if I had made only a few more points on my tests I could be recommended for ASTP (Army Specialized Training Program). You see, I had a score of 114 and 115 is required. He asked me how I felt taking the test, thinking that if I wasn’t feeling real good I didn’t do as well as I could. In any case, he wrote Qualified ASTP on my card.

We were told that the Field Artillery is composed only of specialists in all fields. A Lieutenant briefed us on the Field Artillery’s role in Guadacanal, pushing Rommel out of Africa, and its role in Italy and Russia. But it is a lot of hooey about our being proud to have been sent here as some of these guys couldn’t be more stupid. I’m still living out of my barracks bag but as soon as I am assigned to permanent duty I’ll have a foot locker and a place to hang my coat, shirts etc. I can use my own underwear and pajamas. There are no restrictions on these. We are finished for the day at 5 pm. I returned to my bunk after chow and have been writing since. It is now 9:15 pm.

19 November 1943  

You can’t believe everything you hear around here. On the population of Ft. Sill I have now heard three different versions; first I told you that the population was 8,000 (I may have misheard this for 80,000); then it was 25,000 and now it is 85,000 which may be the correct figure. In any case, this gives you an idea of how big a place it is.

Yesterday we had some special testing on time reaction. They seat you into an auto-like seat with a gas peddle and brake. When a red light flashes you are to try to see how fast you can get your feet off the peddle and slam on the brake. I passed it satisfactorily but you might be surprised how many didn’t. Testing included depth perception, field vision and color blindness all of which I passed at 100%.

Today’s events included march commands, right face, left face etc. followed by informal discussions and a lecture on officer ranks which I was already familiar with from my tour in Ft. Hayes. The afternoon was devoted to demonstrations. We were trucked out about 8 miles away into the distant hills. The convoy included about 200 trucks. We were dumped at the foot of the hills and had to trek up the rough hillside that was covered with cactus. And like an army of ants we were scattered across the hillside. The demonstration began with an officer explaining the happenings over a loud speaker. Mock buildings were being bombed or strafed. First came the reconnaissance planes; then precision bombing, dive bombing, skip bombing and smoke screens. A realistic scene with presumably live bombs. The demonstrations lasted about an hour and then we were back in camp. Since it seldom rains here the trucks kicked up dust to almost zero visibility.

On return to our barracks we were all called outside for new orders. Transfers were ordered for certain men as a result of yesterday’s interviews, me being one of the certain men. Of our group, ten of us were transferred to Battery B-33. We were, of course, curious as to where we might be going but had a fair idea as all of us had been clerks of some sort. On arrival at our new battery we learned we were in the Clerk Supply Division of the Field Artillery. My luck is holding out. I’ll be getting only 5 weeks of basic training and then 11 weeks of classroom training in typing, shorthand, and supply, all of which should be a snap. The schedule includes one hour of calisthenics from 4 to 5 pm. Classroom training from 8 am to 4 pm. That is what the fellows here in the barracks say anyway. I think I ‘m going to like this new bunch as I am now with a smart bunch of SOBs, not like the jerks in the other battery who are staying with the guns etc. In a way I was a bit disappointed as I looked forward to the full basic training course which sounded exciting. But I am still a caisson. I think I got this break from my interviewer as I heard one guy ask for clerical training, having been a clerk for ten years, and being told they don’t need clerks in this part of the Army.

They tell me this outfit is very strict. Being a clerk battery we are expected to be spick and span and neat as a pin. These guys say they are really getting a course in housecleaning and we should all subscribe to the Good Housekeeping magazine. Our barrack, No. 3, got the highest rating ever attained in Ft. Sill or something like that. Big deal. Isn’t that just ducky? But another nice break, we don’t get up until 6:30 in the morning. I keep getting to sleep longer with each change.

We have been issued foot lockers and clothes hangers. I’m located in a two-story barrack and have the upper of the double bunks. Some of the fellows will be leaving next week and I’ll grab myself a lower. This battery has other advantages as well. It is near a movie theatre, the PX, the recreation hall, Service Club and chapel, all on a street only a block away.

I’m doing all right but keep praying as I’m not sure about all of this yet.

20 November 1943  

I hope you found my letter of yesterday interesting. . Now let me tell you about the Field Artillery. On the battle field the Infantry is always on the front lines. Their primary weapon is the rifle and they do their fighting on foot. That is why marching is such a big part of their training. Behind the lines, at a good distance, stand the Caissons with their big guns. The primary weapon of the Field Artillery is the 105 mm howitzer. In our training (the clerks) we will go only through the motions of firing. The personal weapon used by individual fighters is the carbine, similar to a 22. I’ll be firing one of these.

Today’s activity didn’t amount to much. During morning hours we had pre-basic classroom lectures. In the afternoon our group observed another group practicing throwing hand grenades. Apart from full field equipment inspection, that was it.

The weather here is near perfect. Oklahoma is now in Indian Summer. Do you remember my writing something about the food here? On being transferred to this Battery I have to take it all back. The food is excellent; as good as home cooked meals. Each battery has its own mess hall and with a battery made up of only about 100 men that is not too many to prepare meals for. We had a swell lunch and supper. And the mess hall is real cute with Venetian blinds, varnished plywood walls and shades on the lamps. And I am now eating out of real dishes and cups, no more trays. The food is on the table when we arrive and you can have all you want and only what you want. About twelve of us sit at a table like with a big family. Our battery has even more privileges. On weekend passes we can travel as far as we like, to Oklahoma City, Dallas and Ft. Worth, Texas. The Texas border is only 35 miles away.

My five weeks of basic training begin Monday. Just because it is a clerk’s battery doesn’t mean it is going to be easy, they tell us. They expect us to learn faster than what is expected from other batteries. The Lt. said that this battery usually goes through their basic pretty well because the men generally have higher IQs. This seems to be true as I see a difference between these men and those I just came from.

After washing up tonight another guy, Harold Taylor, and I went out on the street where all the action is. Harold is 25 years old and married. We probably became friends because we are the youngest in the group. The rest of the men are in their thirties. He is from West Virginia but isn’t what I think of West Virginians, that is, hillbillies. I also knew him from Ft. Hayes. You know, there are very few 18 year olds in the army here; the majority are old men.

The crowds on the street here are worse than downtown Cleveland. The line to the movie theatre was over a block long. The PX was jammed. It was impossible to be waited on at the Service Club. And the biggest crowd was on the street trying to catch a bus to Lawton. Harold and I got a haircut, had a coke and returned to our barrack to write. The hair cut I got was not a GI cut. We were first told that our hair couldn’t be more than an inch and a half long. In this outfit our hair just has to stay neat. The PX (Post Exchange) is a big store where you can buy almost anything. They also sell beer so it looks and smells like a saloon with its smoke and scattered empty bottles.

There is a radio in our barrack but at the far end from me. I would like to have my own radio but I suppose it would be too much trouble to send it. We are permitted radios, electric shavers or any electrical equipment.

I’ve been here only three days and already it seems like months. I hope I don’t get home sick but today I had a strange, lonely and lost feeling. There are a lot of Southerners here from Alabama, Tennessee, Texas etc. who talk different from us. Most of these fellows finished their basic training and will be leaving in the next few days. A lot of parents visit the guys here. Some are going to another camp without a furlough. It is hard to get a furlough even after four months unless you are going overseas. Many of the men from this battery go overseas right after their basic training. These are mostly from the gun batteries.

You may think it funny when I tell you where I am writing this letter. Lights go out in the barrack at 9:30 pm so we all come into the latrine to write our letters.

21 November 1943  

This is my first Sunday at Ft. Sill and I thought it would be ruined. Four of us were assigned detail to clean up the Recreation Hall. We had to report in our fatigues at 8:30. The detail was just sweeping up and dusting which we finished by 9:45 am. My only regret was missing church this morning.

After the detail I reorganized my foot locker and then Harold Taylor and I took the mile or so walk to the Main Post. We toured almost the entire Fort. The architecture is along southwestern or Spanish style lines, stucco, except for the nice little stone chapel. The Service Club for Enlisted Men is well furnished with a lounge carrying newspapers, magazines, a snack bar, library and recreation room. These buildings look quite new, having been built in 1933 and 1934. Further on is the Old Fort of smaller, stone built buildings. This is the original Fort and now more of a historical site.

This being a Fort, I feel lucky to be posted here rather than in one of the camps in the Southern states. A Fort is a permanent Army Post while Camps are temporary, like Camp Lee, Va., or Camp Sibert, Alabama, where men sometimes sleep in tents and have few recreational facilities.

I received two letters from home. I guess my mail will now be coming through regularly. It is now, as I am writing, 4:45 pm. I’ll be writing a letter, study the 11 General Orders we have to memorize and rest for the remainder of the day. I want to rest for tomorrow we begin basic training. Sundays we can sleep as long as we like. Some of the guys didn’t get up to twelve noon. There is no inspection so few beds are fixed, although mine is.

By the way, F.A.R.T.C. is not what it sounds like but means Field Artillery Replacement Training Center.

22 November 1943  

It is now 10:30 pm and we just got through for the day. Since I don’t want to get into the habit of not writing I’m staying up late to write my daily letter.

I can’t complain about sleep. Getting up at 6:30 am isn’t too early. But we had a sudden change of weather and went out into the cold morning with our gloves and overcoats. What a sight we were in our fatigues, overcoats and helmet liners. It was left face, right face, forward march, about face, right and left until we were blue in the face. This was only a preview, the worse is yet to come we are told. Following these drills we were taken to the obstacle course but only for a description of the course routine. I’m already beginning to laugh, to myself, on how one big, fat, 37 year old who looks like Irvin S. Cobb, or Charles Coburn, will take to the course. I can see him going through the obstacle course swinging or trying to catch the rope with which to swing across a water hazard and falling flat on his face and big stomach. He’s a comic guy to begin with. Then it was on to two hours of movies and an hour and a half on the nomenclature of the 105 mm howitzer. It’s the lighter version. Those over 150 lbs. in weight work on the 155 mm howitzer. As I wrote previously, we will go only through the motions of firing. There are 8 men to l howitzer, the gunner and 7 cannoneers. Each man has one duty running around the gun in what is called The Cannoneers Hop.

At 5:00 pm I thought we would be finished for the day. But in the Army it looks like we are never done. I also thought I was settled down in the barrack. No, they had us move to Barrack 4 carrying out our mattress, bedding, locker and clothes. We left them on the lawn while they marched us to a classroom for a pep talk. Battery Commander Capt. Machann gave a talk on the history of Ft. Sill and the rules and regulations of our Battery and again told us of the good record this Battery has and how proud we should be to be part of it. This went on until 8:30 pm and then back to the barrack.

This time we were assigned beds and I got one on the first floor and a lower bunk. It took another hour to straighten out everything. Everything must be just so or you get a demerit. I have always been fussy but not as fussy as the Army expects of me.

On the brief history of Ft. Sill we learned that it was named after a General and was built to protect the whites from hostile Indians. Geronimo, known as one of the fiercest warriors in American history, was a leader of the Oklahoma tribe. General Custer of the famous last stand also fought here.

A little more on Ft. Sill and its components. I’m at the Field Artillery Replacement Training Center. But Ft. Sill is itself a Field Artillery school and includes all branches of the Service, e.g. Infantry, Ordnance, Quartermaster, etc. I am in the 8th Regiment which has two battalions, the 32nd and 33rd. I’m in the 33rd. The 33rd Battalion has 5 Batteries, ABCD & E. I’m in Battery B. The 8th Regiment is composed of Specialists, e.g. A is the cook’s battery, B the clerk’s battery, C artillery mechanics, D motor mechanics and E radio and communications. The men now in this Regiment have had experience in these fields in civilian life.

I guess I have made it clear that I’m liking the Army, the discipline, marching, saluting, the whole bit. The odd thing is that all of us started counting the days, only 16 weeks and 6 days more.

23 November 1943  

It is now 11:10 pm and my first chance to write. The plan seems to be to keep us too busy to think about ourselves and our family. Yet they keep telling us to write home in our spare time, study our field manuals, clean our carbines, all in our spare time. But there is no spare time. By rights, we’re supposed to be finished with training at 5:00 retreat.

The day was easy enough but someone was constantly ordering us around. During the first period of training we had a lecture on military courtesy followed by a march to the Motor Park for a lecture on the nomenclature of the 2 1/2 ton 6x6 truck. Then came a period devoted to cleaning which was too much and someone decided that our barrack was clean enough. During inspection Capt. Machann climbed up on the rafters to test for dust, then under the beds, in our lockers and every imaginable place. In the morning we have to break up our beds, turn over the mattress and remake it. Clothes must be hung a certain way and everything set just so in the foot locker. Each bunk must be on line and not a quarter inch off.

In the afternoon we were shown an interesting movie, Prelude to War, followed by a pep talk by Major General Pennell, the highest ranking officer in the Center. We are fed a lot of propaganda, of course. Each day before dinner we listen to a news broadcast by the Special Services Unit, always pessimistic. As one man put it, They have one objective, that is to make us mad and keep us mad, mad enough not to fear overseas duty and ready to kill the enemy. The role of Field Artillery is always emphasized.

All of this exciting stuff was followed by a demonstration on making a field pack. On our 15th and 16th week of training we go on a two-week bivouac in the mountains, hiking, sleeping in tents. A 25 mile hike in 8 hours is part of this program. It should be a lot of fun. Anyway, we were shown how to roll up our tent and blanket for carrying on our back. A complete pack weighs 40 lbs. Another classroom discussion and then chow which by this time was 6:15 pm. Mail call. I received 3 letters but didn’t get a chance to read them until 9:30 pm. It was already dark after chow and mail call but we were marched out again to clean howitzers, cleaning, oiling and practicing the Cannoneers Hop. All this in the dark. It was an easy day but it seemed like nothing more than marching from classroom to field, field to theatre, theatre to barracks on and on. Our final activity was a test on officer rank which I have down pat.

They were good enough to leave the lights on until 11:00 to allow us to fix our lockers, shine shoes and study. The lights, however, are now out and I am writing in the dark with just a streak of light coming across my bunk from the porch light.

Had I come into the Army a year ago I might have had more fun with a lot of younger guys. These older men are all so practical and obedient, never up to pulling a prank or making a joke. These guys go to bed at 9:30 or earlier if they can. I almost forgot to write that today I was issued a carbine and steel helmet weighing 5 lbs.

24 November 1943  

Some days can get silly, like tonight. To be believed, the fellows at work tonight would have to be seen. At 6:30 pm we had to scrub the floor and did we go to town. Our Sergeant is very fussy and he showed us how to give the floor a GI scrub. To top it off, the men were enthusiastic about it, that is, except me who might be called a goldbrick. It was hilarious to see these men take off their shoes, roll up their pants, get on their knees and scrub. This could have been the Picture of the Week for LIFE magazine. The Irvin S. Cobb look-a-like is a comedian. He was one of the chief scrubbers and I almost died laughing listening to his commentary.

Our schedule included a couple of movies and two hours on the carbine. With our ammunition belt and the carbine on our backs we double timed to the classroom. It was not very comfortable running with the gun dangling from your back. One of the older men had to drop out because he couldn’t keep up. Even I was exhausted and could sympathize with him being in his thirties. We disassembled the carbine trying to learn its 15 or so parts and then reassembled it. You know, this is the first piece of any mechanism that I’ve taken apart.

Someone took the count today of the number of single men in our battery. Out of 70 only eight or nine are single. The average age is 31. And seeing how these guys go into the cleaning thing they must be hen-pecked husbands. This morning half of the guys started getting up at 5:30 in order to make their bunks and do the morning routine. I didn’t get up until 6:30 but my sleep was disturbed by all the noise they make.

Tonight scrubbing was finished at 9:30. I probably won’t be in bed until midnight. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day so we might be let off at 5:00 pm.

25 November 1943  

Maybe as we get older holidays become less important to us as I hardly realized that today was