All My Love, Louie: One Ww2 Soldier's Spiritual Struggle in a Gruesome War (1943-1945)

By Judy J. Cain

Judy Cain’s parents survived the Great Depression and saved everything they ever had. One could call them pack-rats or say that they had a hoarder starter kit. One day while digging through her parents’ belongings after they both passed away and went “HOME”, Judy, came across some very old letters. All were addressed to June Larson in Minneapolis, MN and were all from Louis Nelson, her sweetheart and future husband. During World War II, Louie had written over 300 letters to June as their love was blossoming. In them he expressed his love for her; his calling and dream of becoming a minister and servant of the Lord; his struggle with stuttering; his seeming lack of faith at different points during the war; and what he felt was an inability to truly pray. He shielded her from the gruesomeness of the war as they fell deeper and deeper in love with each other. She provided the encouragement and support for him to stay strong and true to himself.

This book was originally written only for her family and contained only the letters, but it has grown into much more. Historical, contextual information, photographs, poems, scripture verses, and his Unit’s history are all woven throughout the letters to help provide a context and highlight his spiritual struggle to overcome barriers to the ministry and maintain if not grow his faith during frightening and gruesome experiences of the war in Europe. If a man who felt the strong calling of God could overcome his struggles during a war, then so can anyone. God’s power is limitless.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Apr 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9781489738295

Judy J. Cain

Judy (Nelson) Cain is the youngest of six children, with five older brothers, of Rev. Louis G. Nelson and June (Larson) Nelson. She has been a teacher of the Deaf/Hard of Hearing since 1984 and is a nationally certified American Sign Language interpreter. She serves as a mentor and trainer for educational interpreters. She and her business partner, Carrie Moore, own C & C Connection, LLC which focuses on training interpreters who work in the educational setting. Judy has dabbled with writing her whole life, but this is her first foray into publishing. She married Gary Can in March 1991 and resides in Indianapolis, IN. She and Gary enjoy spending their spare time at their lake house in Angola, IN where they love to entertain family and friends and spend time out on the water with their slightly crazy cocker spaniel, Whitney.

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Copyright © 2022 Judy J. (Nelson) Cain.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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ISBN: 978-1-4897-3828-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-3829-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021918873

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 05/25/2022

DEDICATION

This book has been a labor of love originally designed for my five brothers, but it has grown to much more than that. I am getting to know my father all over again. The following are letters that my dad, Rev. Louis G. Nelson, sent to my mom (his then girlfriend) during his experience in World War II. I wish I had Mom’s letters too, to sandwich them together, but these will have to be enough because he had to follow the "read ‘em, and burn ‘em" rule.

This book is dedicated to my loving parents, Louis G. Nelson and June R. (Larson) Nelson who provided a wonderful role model of living a strong Christian life.

I also dedicate this book to my big brothers: Tim, Art, Jim, John, and Andy and to all the members of the 13th Field Artillery Observation Battalion.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed producing it. Most daughters never get a chance to know their daddies as young men in love. For this opportunity, I am ever so grateful.

I would love to hear your comments and feedback when you are done reading. Please feel free to contact me with your thoughts at Judy Cain: [e-mail]

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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A huge thanks to my parents, Louis G. Nelson & June Rose (Larson) Nelson, for providing me with the letters and so many other mementos from the war. Some people may label my parents as hoarders or packrats because they saved everything (lucky for me), but I am so glad they did because this book would not have been possible if they hadn’t. I found many of the things and pictures he described in the letters and journals. I dug out their old yearbooks, maps, the 13th Field Artillery Observation Battalion, (FAOB) Unit history and other memorabilia, so bits and pieces are sprinkled throughout this book (all used with permission).

A very big THANK YOU to Gary Cain (my amazing husband) for being patient with me as this book and project consumed me. He is my rock and my hero.

Andy Nelson, Jim Nelson and John Nelson for their time and help with the researching, writing and editing process.

Matt Clodfelter, my teacher friend, for planting the seed for this book and his encouragement to write this book of letters. He was teaching US History at Ben Davis High School in Indianapolis, IN and wanted to use some WW2 letters in some lessons. That started the whole process. This book would not have happened without his input and idea.

Countless friends and family who encouraged me to keep writing this book and to publish it for others to read.

Below is the acknowledgment from one of the mini-memoirs Louie wrote in 2003. It also gives the reader a glimpse of the depth of his love for June.

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Acknowledgment from Louie in Once Upon A War:

I am deeply indebted to one person who has made this little book possible. Without her help, inspiration, and assistance it could not, and would not have been written.

In the times when I hardly believed in myself, she believed in me. When I was discouraged, she paid attention, and gave encouragement. When other men in my platoon received Dear John letters, she stood by me, and was waiting for me when I came home.

For some reason she kept every letter (all 308 of them) that I wrote while I was in the U. S. Army, but the truth of the matter is that she wrote more letters than she received. I am so glad now that she did keep all those letters, for they gave us the foundation for this writing.

She has been a great companion for these 57 years of our marriage [as of 2003], and a great mother for our six children. [64 ½ years at the time of his death in 2010]

The two of us have had a very meaningful time going down memory lane together. We have read every letter, as we reviewed our relationship during the war years of the Nineteen Forties.

To my wonderful wife, June, I dedicate this book.

~Louis G. Nelson~

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Growing up as a PK (preacher’s kid), I believed everyone’s life was just like mine — normal. I assumed everyone grew up the same way with the same values that we had in our home. Family was important. Extended family was very important. Getting along was important (often impossible, but important.) Going to church was important, (if not required.) The word vacation in our family meant going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house or an aunt or uncle’s house. We never went to the country’s great sight-seeing spots or to the beach. So, imagine a van full of five rambunctious boys and one little girl descending on their house for a week or two. I am forever grateful to my extended family for welcoming the chaos of the Nelson family into their homes. Anyway, vacation also meant going to Green Lake Christian Assembly in Green Lake, Wisconsin, so my dad could attend the annual conference of American Baptist Pastors and Missionaries. I never realized he was on a working vacation because the six of us kids would have so much fun all day, every day. I never realized that families did anything different on vacation until much later in my life.

In our family, having peace was important; even though with five boys and one girl, our house was rarely peaceful. My dad strived to maintain peace among the six of us. We would squabble and he would step in and make us look at each other and apologize, ugh… But we did it. I don’t remember him yelling or raising his voice to us even though one of the boys decided to steal some cinder blocks to make a book shelf resulting in police involvement; or the one who may have just tried to burn the house down with a Styrofoam cup of kerosene; or when one kicked a big hole into the dining room door; or when one ruined his brother’s favorite pair of jeans by cutting them off too short to wear as shorts; or even when one wrecked the car leaving it stranded on the median of a busy street, again involving the police. No, he wanted peace. He modeled a Christ-like life every day. He didn’t preach at us; he taught us and modeled through his actions. He never held what we did against us; grace and forgiveness were the norm after whatever discipline was done. All the childhood stories of my brothers’ adventures are used with permission from my brothers.

After writing this book and adding the additional historical information where it fits, I can see the theme of keeping the peace throughout my dad’s life. Even during the war, he focused on the positive experiences and wrote about the awful experiences in a positive way. He sheltered Mom from the horrors he saw and felt; partly due to the censors and partly due to his love for her. He didn’t want to worry her. There are numerous times throughout the war that his letters included very little about his feelings and thoughts connected to his horrific experiences. The unit’s history sandwiched in-between his letters gives a much better indication of his probable feelings and fears. There he was, away from home and the safety of Grace Baptist Church and the love of his family and June, caught in a violent war against Nazi Germany, yet for the most part, he was able to maintain his positive outlook on life. He was simply trying to survive with his sanity and spiritual connection to God intact. I am sure my dad was terrified and shocked beyond belief more often than not, but his focus in his letters was to shield my mom from those horrors and feelings and keep her outlook positive and peaceful.

Some of the words he wrote in letters and some of the pictures I have included may be seen as inappropriate and are somewhat gruesome, but I feel they are critical in showing his struggle. I apologize upfront if any of this offends you, the reader, but I feel strongly that this context be included. Over the years I have heard countless sermons that not only teach the scriptures, but do so within the context of the situations and culture at the time and location. One cannot fully understand the meaning of the verses of the Bible without factoring in the context of the time they were written. I feel this is also true in understanding World War II’s impact on my dad. I feel strongly that the words and style of his letters and his overall story, show his human-ness as a Christian man in a horrible situation.

He mentioned several times that he was a bad witness for the Lord because he had not led anyone to Christ during the war. I think it might just be the opposite. His way of being and acting each and every day and even the stationery he used was in itself a witness for a Christ-like life. His buddies noticed his behavior and priorities. Despite temptations, he did not succumb to those things that he knew in his heart were not good for him. That was a witness. His gracious and giving spirit was a witness. The fact that he met my mom in prayer every day, or attempted to, was a witness. The fact that he yearned for church services as often as he could find them was also a witness.

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I include Louie’s address whenever there is a change; the letters following are from that address until otherwise mentioned. The postage for these letters is free unless otherwise stated. All letters appear exactly how he wrote them, spelling errors, cross-outs, and all. I promise I did proofread for mistakes.

The pictures are from Louie and June unless they are otherwise labeled and have been used with permission. I have tried to include as much extra information as possible to provide context for his spiritual struggle and to help you, the reader, get to know my dad.

In June 2019, my husband Gary, and I had the amazing opportunity to go to Germany and France to attend the seventy-fifth anniversary of D-Day at the American cemetery at Omaha Beach. We also went to Utah Beach on D-Day Plus One. It was surreal to walk the same ground that my dad did seventy-five years prior. Throughout this book, I have included pictures from that trip as well as my commentary.

Sometimes you will see drawings that he included within his letters, stationery snippets, backs of envelopes, with what I believe to be June’s scribbling, as well as other tidbits of information I have gathered along the way. Louie also wrote scripture references in the many of his letters. When he did, I have added those verses at the end of that letter. All are from the King James Version, which was the most common version in the 1940s. The poems and devotionals that he wrote, which I have included throughout, used scriptures from the Good News Translation (GNT) or the Amplified Bible (AMP).

Most of the letters were addressed to June’s childhood home but a few were mailed to her work address at the Fanny Farmer Candy Shop. Notice the absence of zip codes.

I have added information from a variety of sources to help add context and clarity for the letters including people and events from the time. A bibliography with these sources is included in the back of the book.

I have pulled writings from my dad’s poetry and his three mini-memoirs that he wrote in 2003 for his six children. In Once Upon A War, he put excerpts from the letters and then expanded on what was happening around him that he was not able to put in the letters due to censoring and the rules about saying too much. I also found his personal journal that he kept all during the war. These entries are his written itinerary while in the army.

I have also included many excerpts from the 13th Field Artillery Observation Battalion’s history published in 1979 by Tech Repro, Inc. Louie took this book with him to each reunion as evidenced by all the various name tags from each were pasted inside the book. The narrative was written by Larry Hough and edited by Richard Sinclair. The references will be Hough & Sinclair. These excerpts are all used with permission of the publisher, Tech Repro, Inc. (Sinclair, 1979)

In the back of the book:

Appendix A contains a list of the people Louie mentions throughout his letters with a brief explanation of who they are. Whenever possible I have added a picture into the letter where they are first mentioned.

Appendix B includes the Memorial Service notes that Louie presented during their annual reunion ceremonies. He was chosen by the men and essentially became the de-facto Chaplin for the 13th FAOB after the war. It is obvious that his witness throughout the war was consistent and effective because they recognized his spirituality and asked him to speak every year.

Appendix C includes a list of each Scripture Louie cited or referenced along with where it appears in the book.

Appendix D includes a list of each of Louie’s poems that I used in the book.

Appendix E includes the itinerary that he kept, detailing each time the 13th FAOB moved to a new location.

CONTENTS

1 Pre-Basic and Basic Training

2 Overseas — to England

3 D-Day Invasion — Operation Overlord & Through France

4 Into Belgium

5 Into Germany

6 Back To Belgium

7 Final Push Through Germany

8 Germany Surrenders: The War Is Over!!!

9 Reunions

Appendix A — People in the book

Appendix B — Scriptures cited

Appendix C — Poems Used

Appendix D — Itinerary

1

PRE-BASIC AND BASIC TRAINING

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My dad, Louie, was an avid writer. He wrote over two-thousand poems and devotionals, mainly for his six children and friends to enjoy, including his annual Christmas poem/letter. He also published a couple of books of poetry titled What’s Been Damming Up the Stream (Nelson, What’s Been Damming Up the Stream, 2005) and The First Thing in the Morning (Nelson, First Thing in The Morning, 2004). In the early 2000s he wrote three short memoirs: As I Recall: A Glimpse into the Past, about his childhood growing up during the Great Depression and what life was like in the 1930s and 1940s in pre-World War II Minneapolis, Minnesota. In Once Upon A War, he highlighted parts of the war that he was not allowed to talk about in the letters he sent home. In his third, To Church and Back, he wrote about his entry into the ministry during the 1950s and 1960s. The following are excerpts from his first book that help set the foundation for Basic Training and a bit of context of the times.

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As I Recall: A Glimpse into the Past — We lived in the Central High School District, and lived about one mile from the school. During my junior and senior years I had a morning paper route, got up about 4:30 a.m., went to get the papers and delivered the route, came home for breakfast, and then off to school. The newspaper had distribution points scattered around the city, where a group of carriers would come to pick up their papers. I went to 36th and Nicolet to get mine (3 long blocks and 2 short blocks away). For a while I was the station master, with the responsibility of seeing that every carrier in the group showed up and took his papers. If one of the boys didn’t show, I had to go to his house and wake him up. I’m not sure it was worth the extra money I got for that responsibility.

My years in high school were OK for the most part — except for the stuttering problem that I had developed along the way. Most of my problems were in French class where we were seated and recited in alphabetical order. French was easy for me, except for oral reciting in class; although I knew what to say and could pronounce it correctly, I invariably got stuck in stuttering when trying to recite. Many days, I spent a greater part of study hall that preceded French class praying that God would make it possible for me to speak correctly the next hour. But God had a different idea, and I did not understand it until two or three years later.

In December of my senior year, life in America was drastically and suddenly changed by Japan’s attack on our naval fleet at Pearl Harbor. The next day the US declared war on Japan and Germany, and many of the boys in the senior class enlisted in the army, navy or marines right away without waiting first to graduate from high school. Dick [Louie’s brother], was at the University, and enrolled in the Navy’s V-12 program that took University students and trained them to be officers upon graduation. After graduating in 1942, I immediately started the process of enlisting in the army as a glider pilot.

Enlisting involved some academic tests at the Federal Building downtown and the physical exam at Fort Snelling. I passed the first part of that, but had trouble with the latter. At Fort Snelling I joined a large group of recruits being drafted, and moved in an assembly line fashion from doctor to doctor, for every imaginable test. It was an all-day procedure, and the last doctor in the line was a psychologist or psychiatrist. He talked with me for a while and then in large scrawling red letters he wrote one word across my application — S T A M M E R, and sent me home. On the way home, I drowned my sorrow and shame in a chocolate malted milk and wondered what to do next.

There were some events in life that make sense only in a long look backwards — this is one of them, for two years later when we had landed in France the day after D-Day, 1944, I saw what happened to the gliders that came in with the Airborne Forces. Every one of them crashed because the Germans had erected posts in every field, catching the wings of all the gliders that attempted to land in Normandy. A large percent of those men were killed on contact with the ground. Only with my 20-20 hindsight could I see the hand of the Lord in all this.

Unable to get a decent job after graduating high school, I settled for mowing lawns, and explored entering a Speech Correction School which I attended that summer. Now a more serious problem loomed on the horizon. I had felt the call of God to prepare for ministry, but how can I reconcile that with the fact of my stuttering? Would God be so foolish as to call a stutterer to be a preacher? Well, with some hesitation I went ahead and applied for admission to Northwestern Bible School (since my two sisters had attended there), and started school in the fall, 1942.

By that time the US public had become actively involved in the war effort. The war affected everyone in society, especially with the rationing system. Gasoline, tires, meat, sugar, coffee, cooking oil, and shoes were all rationed and could not be purchased without ration coupons. Many people who had not had gardens before grew vegetables in victory gardens in back yards and in various empty lots in the city. There were concerted efforts to collect scrap metal, especially aluminum, for the war effort. Most all of the factories were converted over to producing military material; no cars were manufactured in the US in 1943 and 1944. Patriotism was strong and most boys my age (18) were eager to get into the armed services. Technically, I could have petitioned my draft board for a 4-D deferment on the basis of being a ministerial student; many at Northwestern did just that. But it just did not seem the right thing to me to do, so when the draft notice came from President Roosevelt soon after my 19th birthday, I welcomed it.

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When I was ordered to report to Fort Snelling for my induction physical, I gladly went and passed all stages of the exam — even the last guy in line, for I was able to keep the stuttering under control.

After a couple weeks to settle all my civilian affairs, with nightly passes to go home, I was part of a train full of recruits sent to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, arriving there on June 1, in the midst of one hundred degree heat, and began a four month Basic Training in Field Artillery Observation, concluding at the end of September. Basic training toughened me a bit and put on about 20 pounds (I weighed 126 pounds when I was sworn in). (29—32)

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Here are some excerpts from his third book, To Church and Back (unpublished), which also help set the scene for his life and letters to June.

How early in one’s life does the Lord begin His work of calling a person into the ministry? Obviously, it varies tremendously from person to person. John the Baptist was chosen by the Holy Spirit before he was born. Some are called to God during the heat of the battle in a war-zone; others receive the message gradually over a number of years, and a variety of experiences. For many, the formation of such a call was set in their families, while they were young.

I was born into a Presbyterian family who attended the Oliver Presbyterian Church on 26th Street in South Minneapolis, my mother told me of an instance when I was still a babe-in-arms, with my parents in the worship service. For some reason, I began to cry and make quite a noisy fuss, and when the pastor, Dr. Roberts, noticed my mother’s discomfort and annoyance, he paused in the sermon to say something like this — ‘Don’t let this bother you, Mrs. Nelson — that boy will be a preacher some day.’ My only recollection of that church was that the 1 ½ mile walk home after Sunday School when I was in Kindergarten, was a long and tiresome one.

My parents were very committed to the Lord, and took their parental responsibility seriously, making sure that our home would be conducive to the spiritual development of their children. Some of the greatest memories of my early years were the times when my mother would tell us the Bible stories, even when she was bed-ridden with asthma. She saw to it that her children grew up knowing the Bible.

Even with the influence of a strong, Christian home, and my older sister, Ruth, preparing to be a missionary in Nigeria, West Africa, I did not sense any leaning toward ministry until I was in about the ninth grade.

That was when our family became a part of the Grace Baptist Church in Minneapolis, and I became a part of an active, energetic youth group there. With the church and home as partners in my spiritual formation, I found the environment in which I could hear and recognize the voice of the Lord.

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Speaking of listening for God’s voice and direction — he wrote a poem in his book called I Lift My Hands (unpublished), which mentions speaking to God but also listening to and being in tune with His spirit.

Prayer is Listening Too

So I will bring disaster upon them because no one answered when I called, or listened when I spoke.

— Isaiah 66:4 (GNT)

As we commune with God in prayer

It’s very wise to be aware

That when we pray, He speaks as well,

And that some things He wants to tell.

So seldom do we pause to hear,

Or check to see if He is near —

Too busy going here and there,

To listen to the Lord in Prayer.

Prayer is really a two-way street,

Where God and I each day can meet;

When all I do is talk non-stop

My praying really is a flop.

My quiet time means I’ll be still,

And calmly wait a while until

I sensed that He’s alive — and near,

And says something that I should hear.

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In his mini-memoir, Once Upon A War, my dad reflected on his life before he joined the army. This provides information to his mindset before trying to enlist and then later being drafted into the war.

World War Two began just a few days before I started my sophomore year at Central High School, Minneapolis Minnesota. On September 1, 1939 the military forces of Germany were unleashed on the people of Poland, and Hitler began his conquest of Western Europe. But that didn’t alter the life style of American High School kids because Poland was so very far away.

Americans then were mostly very isolationist, wanting to stay out of Europe’s squabbles, so we paid little attention until 2 ¼ years later when Japan destroyed our Pacific fleet at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. By that time, I was a 17-year-old senior in high school, not old enough yet for the draft. But by that time, Germans had conquered, and were occupying all of Europe except for England, Switzerland, Sweden and Russia. And they were trying their best to defeat England.

So, two months after my 18th birthday, I made application to join the army as a glider pilot. If I had known then what I discovered two years later, I never would have tried that, for I saw what happened to the gliders in the Normandy invasion of France. It was fortunate that my stuttering kept me out of the army at that time.

A year later, however, in May 1943, I was drafted into the army at Fort Snelling, Minnesota, and after a couple weeks I was on a troop train headed for Oklahoma for a summer of Basic Training. The train arrived at Fort Sill, OK on May 31, and that evening I wrote the first letter to June… (1)

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One of the themes of my dad’s life was God is in control. I think maybe at times he forgot that when things didn’t go quite the way he wanted. But then again, who doesn’t feel that way from time to time? He talked a lot about his stammer/stutter throughout but, you will clearly see that God had it all in hand.

Here is a poem he wrote in his unpublished book called I Lift My Hands reminding himself and all of us that God is truly in control and we can trust Him.

The Lord Controls My Future

Now listen to me you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will travel to a certain city, where we will stay a year and go into business and make a lot of money. You don’t even know what your life tomorrow will be! You are like a puff of smoke which appears for a moment and then disappears.

-James 4:13-14 (GNT)

What folly to plan without the Lord,

To say that this is what I’ll do

To have left God out when I explored

Which course in life I should pursue.

To plan like that, I cannot afford,

God’s will I must not misconstrue;

His providence just can’t be ignored

When hopes and plans I would review.

My future all depends on the Lord,

Without Him, life is just askew;

All my plans will end up in discord

If I don’t keep His will in view.

BASIC TRAINING

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Journal (Nelson): May 13, 1943 — Reported to the Armory in Mpls at 0600. From there we went in army vehicles to Fort Snelling and took a physical exam. I was worried that I wouldn’t get in. Passed the physical though and was very much relieved.

Journal (Nelson): May 14, 1943 — Reported back to Fort Snelling at 0700 and after a lot of red tape and stuff we were sworn in the Army. They gave us seven days in which to clean up our business. Went home that night very proud of the fact that I was in the army.

Journal (Nelson): May 21, 1943 — Reported back to Fort Snelling. They issued us our clothes, etc. Stayed at Snelling one week and was home every night.

Journal (Nelson): May 29, 1943 — Skipped out of Fort Snelling and left on the train from St. Paul depot at 2300. Had several hours with June there before we left.

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Postcard

May 30, 1943

Dear June:

Just got into Des Moines, Iowa a little while ago, about 7:15 & had breakfast at a café. All OK so far.

Love,

Louie

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Postcard

May 30, 1943

Dear June:

Arrived in Kansas City about 2:30 & will leave at 9:20 so we are seeing the town. Wrote a card at Des Moines, Iowa but couldn’t mail it for lack of time. Just had a delicious dinner & am loafing around now.

Love,

Louie

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Pvt. Louis G. Nelson

A.S.N. 37562165

F.A.R.T.C. Fort Sill, Okla.

May 31, 1943

6:30pm

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map of Oklahoma showing Fort Sill (hand drawn)

Dear June:

The train pulled in at Fort Sill at 1:30 this afternoon. So far we have done nothing. Had chow and went to the PX to get this stationery. Yesterday at Kansas City we went into the USO club and talked to one of the hostesses. She said that quite a few of the boys from Fort Sill drop in and they said they had very bad food. From what we have had to eat today here I think they knew what they were talking about. I’ve had worse food but I don’t know where.

Had breakfast and dinner in style today on the diner car. Yesterday we didn’t have a diner on the train so we couldn’t eat til we stopped. When we were in Kansas City yesterday I went up in the top of a tower they have there accross across the street from the depot. It is 600 ft. high and we could see the whole town. Hope you got the souviner souvenir I sent you from Kansas City.

I’ve been in 3 states now that I hadn’t been in a few days ago; MO, Kansas, and Okla. The country here doesn’t look much different than Minn, but in the northern part of Okla., the ground is as red as a beet. Even the water in the rivers we passed over was red. Have seen only one oil well here so far.

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A) Louie ready for Basic; B) a map showing his route from Minnesota (hand drawn)

This is a fairly good-sized camp. You could put 20 camps the size of Snelling inside Fort Sill & still have room to spare. It’s 20 miles long, east-west and 5 miles wide, north-south and there are from 50,000—80,000 men here.

The train we were on was the slowest thing I’ve seen. It stopped at every one-horse, jerk-water town & only traveled at about 45 mph when it did go. Had to sidetrack several times to let other trains go by. At El Paso, Okla., we stopped for about 10 minutes & some sailors brought us some cookies from the Red Cross there.

Would appreciate a letter as soon as possible. I think the return address would get one here, I hope. You could try it anyhow.

Pvt. Louis G. Nelson

A.S.N. 37562165

F.A.R.T.C.

Fort Sill, Okla.

In case you were wondering, the A.S.N. means Army Serial Number, F.A. means Field Artillery and the R.T.C. means Replacement Training Center. Will be in training here for 13 weeks and then maybe I can get a furlow for a week or so. I’ll be looking for a letter soon and will write soon too.

Lots of love,

Louie

Journal (Nelson): June 1, 1943 — Arrived at Fort Sill, Oklahoma and was it ever hot! We were at Sill for 4 months, for the hottest ones of the year. Had basic training in observation as a survey computor.

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In Once Upon A War, he explained what the first few days of Basic Training were like.

The first few days at Fort Sill were spent in taking tests and being classified as to what part of Field Artillery we’d be assigned. It’s quite a job to assign all those raw recruits to the proper places. On the second day there I wrote June again. Part of that letter is as follows: (2)

[NOTE: The stationery is the same as on the 5-31-43 letter.]

June 1, 1943 noon

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Dear June,

I just got back from chow this noon and have a few minutes to spare. It took an hour and 15 minutes to eat, because we have to line up to wash our mess kits, then line up to have chow, then eat and then line up to wash the mess kits again. At Snelling, they had dishes but here we have to use our own stuff.

This morning we had a lecture first of all, there, about everything in general, then we drilled for a while, learned all about the different movements & stuff. After that we had more shots. The same as the one that hurt so much before. So far I haven’t felt it yet. Then we marched some more.

We’re in temporary barracks now for about 48 hours. Then we will be assigned to a company and a battalion. We are in quarantine for 2 weeks too & we can’t leave the post in that time. I expect to get classified this afternoon as to what kind of job I’ll have: they offer jobs as gunner, gun mechanic, mule pack, communications, etc.

The nearest town is Lawton, five miles away, but we can’t go there until after 2 weeks. There are three ways of getting there; bus, taxi, walk. We can’t be seen on the streets after midnite midnight. Now we have bed check at 10:30. Our furlow time accumulates at the rate of 2 ½ days per month and that isn’t very much.

This morning we were reminded by all the noise that we are in the field artillery. As we were drilling some other fellows were having rifle practice & some were having cannon drill. The cannons sound like thunder & the rifles sound like a few thousand cherry bombs going off within a few minutes.

It’s almost 4:00pm now and I just came back from the classification bldg. We had some more drills too and it is hot!! It feels as if it were about 150° in the shade & the wind is blowing, hot & dry. Dust is flying & it reminds me of this poem:

Spring has sprung,

Fall has fell,

Summer is here

And it is hot —

Got some encouragement at the classification building. My interviewer said I was in the top bracket in the IQ test and the Mechanical Aptitude test, so he recommended me for going to school to learn the math in the precision firing of all the big guns. Will spend 13 weeks here in technical school. He told me this was the hardest battery to get into and that one usually gets a rating on completing the course. Guess I won’t be Chaplin’s assistant.

The wind has been blowing all day and my hair is blowing as much as the wind is, so I guess I’ll get it cut off short (it’s required anyway.) If I ever get back to Minnesota, I’ll never complain about the cold.

We have the most well known and most played song in the service. It’s the one that goes, give a cheer, give a cheer, for the boys that drink the beer, in the cellar of old Central High. But those aren’t the real words to it. The real words are these:

Army Artillery Song

Verse 1

Over hill, over dale,

We have hit the dusty trail,

And those caissons go rolling along.

Counter March! Right about

Hear those wagon soldiers shout,

While those Caissons go rolling along. For it’s

Chorus:

Hi! Hi! Hee! In the Field Artillery,

Call off your numbers loud and strong! (call off)

And wher’er we go, you will always know

That those Caissons are rolling along! (keep ‘m rolling!)

That those Caissons are rolling along!

Second verse, same as the first, little bit louder and little bit worse.

Verse 2

To the front, day and night.

Where the doughboys dig and fight

And those Caissons go rolling along.

Our barrage will be there

Fired on the rocket’s flare,

Where those Caissons go rolling along. For it’s

(Repeat chorus)

(lyrics by Brigadier General Edmund Louis Snitz Gruber 1918, music by John Philip Sousa — public domain) Text is available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License

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Bantam car in mid-air, New River, North Carolina 1941 — Library of Congress LC-USW33-027832-ZC [P&P] Lot 700 (U.S. Army Signal Corps photo — public domain

Don’t ask me what caissons are because I don’t know either. I always thought there were other words to that tune and now I know.

When we were out drilling today I saw some guys, quite a few of them, go thru an obstacle course & did they ever look hot and dry. Saw a range of mountains in the west too. They surely looked inviting.

Sounds more like the 4th of July now than the first of June. All the rifles going off & the cannons all at once make a racket.

6:15

Just filled my pen so maybe you can read it now. This time I’ll finish the letter. Ate chow over an hour ago & am waiting for the last guys to get done so we can be released to go to the PX. One thing I like here is that we don’t have to wear neckties while on duty. I’m still waiting patiently or impatiently for some letters from you and from home. None of the fellows have received letters yet & are all waiting.

Just before we left Snelling the Chaplin handed out some New Testaments & it really is a good sight to see these boys lay on their bunks & read them. It does my heart good because I haven’t yet found one who doesn’t swear and cuss at almost everything.

When you write, tell me what’s cooking. I’d like to know what’s going on with all the kids at church.

Just had a shower but 5 minutes afterward I was just as hot as before. There’s a bunch of little kids running around here; Negro and otherwise, with shoe-shining kits, shining shoes, and they’re doing quite a business too.

Getting a very little touch of homesickness, not knowing any of the guys here very well as yet, and those that I do know will be separated from me in about a day.

7:30pm

This time I’m really going to finish this letter. Just been over to the P.X. or canteen & got a shoe-shining kit and a pint of ice cream. Ice cream here costs 12 cents ($0.12) a pint & do fellows go for it after a hot day!

Haven’t got much more news to tell you now but I do know that I surely miss you a lot, and can hardly wait for this war to end. But as long as I’m in this man’s army, I’m going to make the best of it and work as hard as I can. Greet the gang and say hello to your folks for me. Well, I guess that’s about all for today & I hope to get some mail tomorrow.

Lots of love,

Louie XX

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For as long as I can remember, my dad always had a positive outlook and made the best of every situation. He would find the positive in everything. His comment in the last paragraph above is a great example of that. There is a war going on across the world; he is training to fight in that war; he is away from home for the first time in his life, and he has vowed to his sweetheart to make the best of it and work as hard as he can.

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[NOTE: The stationery is the same as on the 5-31-43 letter]

June 2, 1943

5:30pm

Dear June:

Thought I heard the whistle for mail, but it was a false alarm. This is the hottest day yet. This morning we drilled until my feet hurt. Had calisthenics this morning too and were we ever tired-out! But our training isn’t even started. This morning after drill we had a little spare time so I wrote Mother then. This afternoon we went to one of the rec halls and listened to one of the fellow’s lecture to us. He had was born in the Balkan States in Europe and had traveled throughout the world. He told us all about the customs and people of some of those countries. It was better than drilling anyhow.

After that lecture we had some movies, the same ones we saw up at Snelling, all about military courtesy and discipline and that stuff. Expected to be assigned to a battery today and leave this hole we are living in now. It’s just a tar-paper shack, and we’re only supposed to be in it about 2 days. Wrote a card to Chaplin Pearson today too.

Had two good meals today — breakfast and dinner, but I didn’t think much of the supper at all. The last meal of the day is always what is left over from the others all put into a stew. I polished my mess kit for an hour and a half last night and still didn’t get it clean. Used steel wool too. While at Snelling, I washed it out and didn’t have time to dry it before I put it away and when I opened it down here it was full of some black stuff and it’s supposed to be spotless when we get to our battery. In case you had visions of my scrubbing my clothes till I rub my fingers to the bone, you’re sadly mistaken. There’s a laundry in the camp. Last night before we went to bed, some of the fellows were showing pictures of their girlfriends. I showed them a picture of my sweetheart, that one like the enlargement and they thought it was pretty swell. I think you’re tops too!

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A) Rev. Pearson from Grace Baptist Church; B) his sweetheart, June

There’s plenty of dust in the air today, the wind has been blowing all day. It’s a little cooler with this wind but it surely is dusty and it is still hot. They say this is cool weather for Okla. I hope I never see the hot weather. Don’t mind my beefing about the heat; I just have to have something to write about. It’s been this hot in Minnesota before too. We don’t wear those little hats that we left in but our helmets, they’re made of some kind of plastic so the top gets very hot after a couple of hours drilling in the sun. When we go to the PX, tho, we must wear those overseas caps and a tie. Last nite I went without a tie and a guy with a gun stopped me and told me to get a tie, so I decided I better not argue with him; he was bigger than I and had a gun so I went back and got my tie.

A bunch of fellows just came in wearing their woolen uniforms, that makes me feel cooler. Some now came down from Snelling but I didn’t know any of them. Well, I guess that’s about all I know today. Tomorrow I’ll probably know what battery I’ll be in. So long for a while.

Love & kisses,

Louie       X X

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[NOTE: The stationery is the same as on the 5-31-43 letter]

June 3, 1943

Thursday; noon

Dear Rosie,

Just got back from chow & have about an hour free so I decided to write. Most of the morning was cool and overcast, but it got very hot about 10:00 and hasn’t changed yet. We had some more calisthenics today and then drilled for a few hours. So far, we’ve done nothing strenuous or hard, but it’s tiring. Anyhow, I enjoy the drilling and calisthenics so I have no kick coming. Right now, I can feel the sweat roll down my face.

This morning too we went for a hike out west past the stables where they keep the mules and horses. The stables are on the very western edge of this fort. When we got past all the buildings, we could plainly see the Wit Wichita Witchita Mountain Range. It was very beautiful. That’s where the mule pack battery trains; they take long trips up to the mts. and stay there for weeks at a time. We marched out about a half mile and had a little rest period. Sat on the grass and watched the smoke rise from the mts. They were shooting some big guns that sound like thunder. The guards here think more of those mules than they do of the men. They can always get more men but mules are scarce. If anyone is found hanging around the stables after 6:00pm, it’s just too bad for them, cause the guards have orders to shoot on sight. We’re still hanging around those tar-paper shacks they call barracks. Hope to be transferred to a permanent battery today. Then we can eat out of dishes and eat good food.

Last nite when waiting in the barber shop, I was talking to a fellow who had just come back from a six-day hike. They had to carry 60 pounds and walk all the way over 50 miles. They were limited service men so I can imagine what they’ll do to us. He said it felt like a 75-pound pack and about 100 miles. Oh yes, what would you say if I told you I got a heinie yesterday, huh?

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A) Lt. Alexander Sylvashko, Red Army, shown in front of a sign [East meets West] symbolizing the historic meeting of the Soviet and American Armies, near Torgau, Germany on Elbe Day (an example of a Heinie haircut — even though he is Russian). 25-27 April 1945. Source. U. S. National Archives and Records Administration, Pictures of World War II (https://www.archives.gov/research/ww2/photos/), image #121 (111-SC-205228). – public domain public domain; B) Louie and the guys going for a road march

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One word kept appearing in his letters that was very difficult for me to make out; it made no sense to me. I thought it said h e i n i e but that wasn’t a word I knew in the context in which he was using it. I had heard the word heinie but always thought it was someone’s rear end. It took me a long time, but after some handwriting analysis — letter formation comparison to other letters he wrote, I finally figured out what he had indeed written heinie. So, after some research I figured out what he meant. According to Wikipedia, Heinie is slang that refers to a crew-cut haircut (stereotypical of German soldier’s haircut); also, derogatory term used for German soldiers; also slang term for the buttocks. Now I know he meant the style of haircut. (Heinie, 2017)

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5:00pm

Just got back from chow; ate early because we are shipping out of these temporary huts. I am the only one from our group going to the battery I’m going to, so I’ll have to make new friends. I’ll have a more definite address soon.

We all went for a hike today at 1:00 and walked and walked until we came back at 3:30. We rested a while before coming back tho. The lieutenant who went with us said it was only 5 miles round trip, but it seemed like twice that in this heat. We walked on a tar road most of the way and the heat had melted it and if we hadn’t had on high shoes, we would have left them on the road. A bunch of the boys from Minn. and a bunch of boys from Iowa were having a verbal feud all the way so it wasn’t tedious. One of the guys couldn’t stand the heat so he sat down by the road and I don’t know how he got back.

A bunch of us are sitting or lying on our cots waiting for orders to leave for our batteries. I think this is the last time for eating out of our own mess kits until we go on maneuvers. We can eat off of plates, I hope, starting tomorrow. Some of the fellows just went and asked about mail and were told that we would get mail tomorrow at our battery. I am anxiously waiting to hear from you. Well, I guess I’ll sign off now, until next time & I’ll be seeing you sometime.

With love,

Louie

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[NOTE: The stationery is the same as on the 5-31-43 letter]

Once Upon A War (Nelson) — After about four days at Sill, I was finally assigned to have training in Field Artillery Observation, rather than gunnery as one man had suggested. However, I was in the math part of it, for I spent the war as one of two computors on a survey team, computing all the details of where we surveyed across Europe. But that gets ahead of my story. Here are parts of my fifth letter to June: (3)

Pvt. Louis G. Nelson 37562165

Btry. F—32nd Bn

8th F.A.R.T.C.

Barracks #1

Fort Sill, Okla

June 4, 1943

5:30pm

Dear June:

Well, I finally got changed into a decent living quarters. Was changed yesterday evening and am living in luxury compared with our temporary huts. Here we have foot lockers to keep our clothes in and we can sleep half hour later in the morning, until 6:00. We don’t have to eat from our own mess kits, but from dishes. The food is better too, but it is still Okla. & hot.

Have received one letter so far, from Mother. She sent it air mail so that’s why I got it. All the fellows here, practically, have received no mail yet and are pretty discouraged. You have no idea how much a letter from a loved one can pep a person up.

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A) A typical mess kit (Utah Beach 2019; B) Edna (Ma) Nelson

Today, my feet were still sore from that long hike yesterday and my back was a little sore too. So they had us drill all morning except for a half hour and in that half hour we had calisthenics. This noon I felt as though I had worn my legs down to the knees. We had it easier in the afternoon tho, pulled weeds half the time and sat around the rest of the time. This morning is the first time I had heard a bugle since I have been in the Army and then it was only a record over a loudspeaker. They are playing it now for retreat but we don’t have to stand retreat until Monday.

7:00pm

I don’t think I have finished a letter all at once yet. Had to quit to eat and had to scrub the floor and I mean scrub on our hands and knees. A new bunch of fellows just came in and will start with us on Monday. Had roast beef for supper and was it ever good! Expect to get more clothes tomorrow, a new khaki uniform and a new fatigue uniform, also a gas mask and a cartridge belt. The corporal is just showing the new guys how to make up their beds and where to put all their stuff. Everywhere we go they tell us something different.

This battery is the observation battery and we will go to school for 10 weeks. We have 3 weeks of physical training first. I am not a Chaplin’s assistant as they told me at Snelling.

Tomorrow I am supposed to set up targets for the boys on the rifle range. Hope I don’t get shot up. You probably noticed from the return address that I have a new address. Hereafter, address all letters to this address:

Pvt. Louis G. Nelson 37562165

Btry, F—32nd Bn

8th F.A.R.T.C.

Barracks #1

Fort Sill, Okla.

Received the camp newspaper today and have read it. Thought you might be interested in it so am enclosing it today. These guys here are asking so many questions of the corporal that I can’t concentrate on writing this letter. He just told us that we won’t even have time in the evenings for the next 3 weeks and I can’t even leave the post until about the 21st of June so I won’t be able to go to Lawton, the nearest town, to get you a birthday present. So don’t expect anything until after that date.

It surely was, or is, hot today. A quart of ice cream would taste good now, and a shower would feel swell too, so I guess I’ll take one now. So long for a while, I am constantly thinking of you.

Love,

Louie

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It is important to note Louie’s circumstances and the sort of language he was exposed to during his time in the war. I can only imagine how hard it was for him to be around all the secular behavior and talk. He was definitely not used to hearing the swearing and cussing that was bombarding him from all directions — peers and superior officers. This was his first real experience with people who put his Christian faith and life to the test. He could have succumbed and joined them, but he stayed true to his beliefs and made the best of his circumstances. One of his main goals was to protect June. He definitely did not want to expose her to that language so, in many letters, including this next one, he simply put dashes or no words at all. Even in Basic Training he was protecting her from the negative worldly influences he was fighting against.

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[NOTE: The stationery is the same as on the 5-31-43 letter]

June 5, 1943

Saturday night

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Dear June:

Right now I am thinking of what I was doing a week ago from this time. This is the longest week I have spent in my life, but it’s good to think back and wish I were in the same circumstances. We are in one of the rec halls here writing (by we I mean a friend from Iowa and I.) There are 2 rec halls for us to use, one equipped with tables for writing, with a radio (just now it is playing the hymn I Love to Tell the Story) and a magazine rack. The other rec hall has quite a number of ping pong tables and a couple of pool tables. Last night we played ping pong for quite a while and had a lot of fun.

This morning we did nothing but get some more clothes. Then just as we got back to our battery area, we were supposed to start out to the rifle range to set targets, wearing our leggings. We had had nothing to eat and besides we couldn’t figure how those leggings laced up. By the time we had them laced up the rest of the detail had left us behind and had gone to the rifle range. We went to see the first sarge and he told us to eat like --- and get the ---- out of here, so what could we do but obey. We ate dinner in about 5 minutes and started out on the double to the range, about a mile and a half. We got there just as they were getting ready to fire, so everything was all right. It wasn’t hard work at all because the fellow I set the target for was quite a poor shot. We had to paste patches over each bullet hole after each round of fire.

Just had a shower but still I’m so hot that I’m sweating as hard as ever. We start class Monday the 7th. The last class graduated yesterday and as their final training they had to hike 20 miles last night with a full 60 lb. pack and camp out there for the night and come back in the morning. So I have something to look forward to. You probably won’t receive letters so regularly the next 3 weeks because I won’t have so much time. They told us we would be busy day and night for the next 3 weeks during basic training, having only a couple of hours free each day.

Still have received no mail except for an air mail letter from Mother. It’s rather hard to concentrate here now because the radio is on full blast. Seems that all I’ve done so far in the army is to wait in some line or other. This morning we did nothing but lay around from 6:30, after breakfast to about 10:30. Slept most of the time but that won’t ever happen again for a long, long time.

Well, I