06 September, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

Camp Edwards, Mass

Wed. Sept 6, 1943    0720

Wilma dear -

It seems as if I can always manage to jot down a few words Monday mornings. This a.m. we’ve been delayed because of another convoy which started out ahead of us. So again I’ll attempt to write as much as I can before we pull out.

To say that I feel fine, dear, would be to handle the truth carelessly; however I think before this day is over I’ll feel much better – because this is the 3^rd day of my so-called illness and that ought to spell ‘finish’.

I got back to camp uneventfully, albeit very tired. I’m afraid I acted that way most of the week-end dear. It’s really unusual for me to feel that way and I’m sure you won’t see me like that again for at least 2-3 years. By the way – the apples & the pear helped considerably in sustaining my energy. I didn’t finish the last of it until I was near Stoughton. My plan at first was to eat the two apples and then the pear. Then I was going to eat the pear first, followed by the 2 apples. (All this deliberation used up 4 miles.) Finally the only logical and sensible solution became obvious, i.e. an apple, a pear and an apple. What would you have done?

Charlie and wife got back to the Cape via (pronounced vee-a) Route 28. He wandered about most of the day, and in the late p.m. they took a buggy ride around town and found it enjoyable.

Dear, they’re about to start out immediately – I won’t even have a chance to mail this from here. Will write later in the day. Will you wait?

Later in the day, but

not much       0815

Hello again –

This convoy has proceeded about the distance from your garage to Mandalay Road. Every soldier and his buddy who can drive a truck – seems to be out driving today. No wonder there’s no gas. Every road from Camp is blocked – so we’re just sitting – or setting as New Englanders are wont to say – and waiting.

I should be in a bad mood this morning. For 14 months my detachment hasn’t had one AWOL – but I have one now. One of my twins goofed off to Patterson, N.J. and hasn’t been seen since Saturday p.m. It spoils our good record, and since he’s a fellow who has acted up from time to time – I’m going to have him court-martialed. I’m usually not very vindictive, but if he isn’t punished – someone else will take off.

But I’m not in a bad mood despite the above – and it must be because I’m writing to you (Mushy). Of course all my boys suspect whom I’m writing early these mornings, just as they know who writes me – because when my mail is delivered to me, I’m told before-hand where the letter is from, the handwriting, address etc. Here we go again – write later –

1450

Wellfleet

Well, dear – that was a long pause and we had a little excitement since I wrote you earlier. A civilian car struck one of our trucks at Yarmouthport. A sailor and his girl were badly ‘banged’ up. After administering some first aid at the roadside – we drove them by ambulance to the Cape Cod Hosp. at Hyannis. It was all I could do to keep from doing a little of the sewing up – but of course a civilian M.D. had to do it – a Dr. Vail who knows W.G. Phippen quite well. We had a nice chat, anyway. It was noon when I left the hospital – so I took my driver and 2 aid men downtown and we are – killing another 45 minutes.

Out here it’s foggy and windy – but I believe we’ll do night flying anyway.

This certainly must rate as a disconnected letter, dear – but – you understand. It should convey to you, though, how many different times of the day I think of you. By the way, you haven’t developed a cold, have you? I trust not. After all, I wouldn’t want you to upset my theory.

I’m sending 3 sick boys into camp right now & the letter with them – so this should go out this evening or early in the a.m. If you do get this in time – take with it my best and sincerest wishes for a very pleasant semester at school. That’s all for now, solong, and

Love

Greg

01 September, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

Near the Hyannis Airport

Wed. Sept 1, 1943 6:05pm

Great Balls of Fire, Wilma!

I don’t know what I can write that will be coherent, dear – but I’ll try. What a past 2 days! I honestly didn’t think I would write tonite, but I was so pleasantly surprised by your thoughtful letter, I had to make an attempt. If I can make myself stable for a minute dear, I really do appreciate your writing me as often as you do. Perhaps I should tell you more directly, but I think you must gather that I do like to hear from you and the oftener the better.

Now all seriousness aside, my one, I wish you were here tonite. (I better direct this along another line.) All right, a fresh start: I’ll explain myself. You remember I wrote you about an experiment we were going to do; well – I did it. From Monday morning on we (the men and I) have been marching, digging and getting fatigued. We moved out of our area at 2300 (11pm) Tues. nite & proceeded here. We then dug in our medical tent and got thru at 3 a.m. We then took 10 mgs of Benzedrine and then I went to visit some of the batteries in the field (a battery is like a company of men) to see the reactions of some of the men who took the same dose. At 6:30 a.m. I returned to the C.P. (Command Post) and felt fine. At 9 a.m. we took another dose, made further visits for reactions. The interesting thing was that I was reacting too. A third – and final dose was taken at 3 p.m. Well, to put it mildly, I began to feel higher than a kite in the Alps. The lack of sleep didn’t bother me at all and right now I’m as sassy as a wood-chuck.

I’ll have to read the above over to see if it’s at all chronological. It’s an effort to concentrate and yet amazing how alert I feel despite physical labor & no sleep. I’m not even yawning. (Remember?) The sensation is best described as “swimming” and has nothing at all to do with water. “Swimming” – as when a fellow falls for a girl, for example; “swimming” – as in giddy, “swimming” – any old way, but always “swimming”.

Talk about rambling, – dear your letters are all fresh and spontaneous to me and I like them that way – probably because that’s the style I unconsciously use.

To prove my point, I’ll jump to another subject. I was sorry to hear about Stan and I hope you found him better when you called. He must be ‘run down’ – to use the vernacular; he’s been staying out late nights, and I guess he should rest more. I’ll have to give him a little professional advice.

Yes I did see “Night Must Fall” – a couple of years ago. It was a very well done picture as I recall it, and Bea with the two “G’s” must have talent to play the part she did. Send her my best wishes, by the way.

Tomorrow a couple of generals will visit us, and Friday, too. We move back Friday and Saturday, God-willing, I’ll head for Boston and –

Dammit (that’s legal) – I’m sobering up dear. I started out to write an entirely congruous letter, and I’ll bet it’s only incongruous. By the way – if you want to use meagre – well use it, see? Never mind Webster. Coin your own words, for that matter. That’s good fun. I often do it, and it’s nice and confusing.

You made no mention of hearing from me, dear – and I assume that’s because you weren’t home very much. I find myself, too, writing rather often, but unlike you – I like to write – to certain people. Steady now, boy! Steady now!

The thought of your leaving Boston, Wilma – is unpleasant. I’ve gotten to know you and like you a great deal, dear – these past weeks. Sic transit gloria mundi – what a pundit I am – or do I know what I’m saying? Truth of the matter is that I’ll miss you and will certainly look forward to seeing you as often as I can while I’m still around. And did I answer you the other nite when you asked whether going away meant getting out of touch? I hope not, and with the slightest encouragement (more – will be welcome) I shall certainly try to let you know where I go and what I think.

And so saying, the cow fell in the bucket, beside his chieftain lying. Kiss my blues away, if it wouldn’t be nice having you near me tonite! Seems like I ended in the same vein as when I started – which just goes to show that if you buy from the maker, you save the middle-man’s profit.

Bear with me, dear – part of it is due to the Benzedrine – but I feel the same way about things without it, I guess.

I hope you have a pleasant week and for a short while more – good night & so-long, dear. I’ll call you when I reach Boston –

Love

Greg

30-31 August, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

Camp Edwards, Mass

Mon. Aug. 30, 1943 0745

Hello dear !

I don’t know how far I’ll get with this but I think I’ll be able to get it into the mail before we leave. We’ve been out on reconnaissance and now we wait for a warning or March Order. When that comes we’re supposed to be able to move out in 10 minutes.

Arrived here at 11:55 p.m. – no rider. Slept well – as long as I could. Oh, dear – here it comes, everyone is moving around a little bit more quickly. Yup – March Order. Well I only wanted to tell you that I again had a very lovely week-end and that I’m glad your health improved so quickly. Dear – I’ll have to stop. So long for now. I’ll write first chance I get.

Love

Greg -

438^th AAA AW BN

Somewhere on the Cape

August 31, 1943 0830

Wilma dear,

Yesterday was a full day and I was really tired when I went to my tent at 9:15 p.m. Of course by that time I had been wandering around in the dark for over an hour.

We were all over the Cape yesterday shooting down planes that were launched from several German carriers about 150 miles off Nantucket. It was a helluva battle, but when I awakened this morning, damned if our flag wasn’t ‘still there’, so I guess we beat them off.

Today or tonight we expect an attack on the Hyannis Airport, and to its defense, our trustworthy outfit has been assigned. We will not move into position until after dark, and we’ll have to dig in once we get there. As a side attraction we’re running a little scientific experiment on fatigue. Each officer & man will be given 30 mgs of Benzedrine Sulfate – otherwise known as Amphetine. Pulse, respirations & other signs will be recorded. The effect is supposed to be that the soldiers can keep going all nite, and without food, too, and yet be fresh in the morning. I’ll take my share, too, tonite, but remember dear – if I’m tired on the week-end, I’ll blame it on Tuesday nite.

Meanwhile I have to go on further reconnaissance for tonight’s move. We’re in full field attire, and the actual list of accouterments making up what we wear and carry would even put to shame a Knight of Sir Arthur’s Table, – but not in gallantry, I’m afraid. “Oh Elwain! Oh Elwain! Wouldst take fair Guinevere’s hand in marriage ritual, but wouldst thou wage battle for the honour?” (The ‘u’ in honour is Old English of course.) He answers ‘yes’ – and then follows a bloody battle, in which 3 knights are slain, Guinevere faints, and the Maids in waiting sigh deeply – as was the custom in those days. Do you think any one ever wrote anything like that? I don’t.

Where was I? Here I am back in the woods of the Cape again. It’s really pretty out here this morning. I think it will probably get quite warm before the day is over.

I told Charlie the difficulty I had in getting a place for him next Saturday. (Actually I tried 2 places, as you know.) At any rate he was thankful and looked forward to getting into town. He’s never been to Boston. And he wants to spend the evening with us.

I suppose, dear, you’re getting ready to go back to school – as you intimated in your last letter. I envy you. Some of the best days I ever spent were at school, particularly in the Fall.

That reminds me of the ditty:

          There was a young man named Hall
          Who in the Spring had a fall
          Had he died in the Spring
          T’would have been a fine thing
          But he didn’t, he died in the Fall.

Now if you can make any point out of that, you’re welcome, dear.

Anyway – our own state of affairs, i.e. the battalion’s & not yours & mine – is fast coming to a head, from what I was able to gather from the Adjutant yesterday morning. It appears that our readiness date of October first may really be adhered to. If so – I’m going to feel badly about leaving this vicinity, believe me. I felt differently a couple of months ago, but right now, I’d be content to just hang around for a long time. How soldierly of me! The truth is, and I believe most boys feel the same way, that we feel the sooner we get over, the quicker we get back; if that is so – I can’t wait!

I better make some attempt at ending this letter, dear, or I’ll be counted among the missing. I guess I’ve told you most of the news. I don’t know when this letter will get off to you, but I’ll do my best – and if there’s any opportunity, I’ll write again. So long for now – and

Love

Greg

24-25 August, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

Wellfleet, Mass

August 24, 1943 8:15 p.m.

Well dear -

I got back here to find that all the firing has been completed and that we leave for Camp Edwards at 0900 in the morning.

It was very nice talking with you, Wilma. I was anxious to contact you and felt (apparently with good reason) that I might miss you. Your letter wasn’t given to me until about 5 p.m. I was really glad to get it and would have been disappointed had it not come. Strange, isn’t it, when you consider that a month or so ago I wouldn’t have cared at all?

The inside of our Medical tent is illuminated by an army gasoline lantern. The trouble is that it’s brilliance waxes and wanes so that after a short while you find yourself blinking. I’ll continue writing until that happens and then finish up tomorrow.

I found your account of tan-getting amusing, particularly the wearing of a ring to check the degree. If you can only wait until the week-end, dear, I’ll let you compare your tan with mine, even if it means showing my torso. My! My!

I’m beginning to blink, dear, and besides – about 8 of the men are hanging around discussing everything from Stalin in Moscow to women in shorts. It’s getting difficult to concentrate. Bill Shea just dropped in and wants to go to Orleans. I had told him earlier that I wanted to go in and make a call, but as you now know I made it from Wellfleet. I don’t think I’ll go; I’m going to crawl into my tent and listen to the radio for awhile. Knowing the highways better than you, I’m going to think myself all the way back to Newton Center. So until tomorrow, dear, good-night.

Wednesday 9:20 a.m.

Still Wellfleet

Good Morning!

I’ve just had a swell swim and I feel fine. We’re packed and ready to go (10:10). The water was cold but the surf enticing. It was nice and cool sleeping here last night. I kept wondering whether or not the Boston storm had materialized, and if so, whether you got wet. At any rate it didn’t rain here. We aren’t scheduled to get into Camp until about 1 p.m. so that with the obstacle course, shower etc, it won’t be long before I ought to be having a steak at the Coonamessett Club. (Wish you could be along, dear.) In order not to get into trouble, I think I’ll call Frank Morse’s wife at Cotuit and take her out to dinner. He doesn’t get home very often now that he’s at Fort Andrews.

By the way, the enclosed picture turned up in the paper the other day. Of course we get in often, but I thought you might like to see it. Hereafter when I tell you we’re well known, notorious and newsworthy, I’ll expect the proper response. Surprise me.

I guess I’ll stop rambling now, and seal this up before we start moving. I hope you get to see the newly married couple, and if you get a chance, kiss the bride for me, will you? No – I’ll kiss her myself; no, no – I’ll kiss you instead. Yes – that’s what I mean.

I hope to leave for Boston as soon as possible on Saturday p.m. and I’ll call you from town when I arrive. Until that pleasant-to-look-forward-to moment, so long for now, dear.

Love

Greg

From: The Boston Daily Record, 23 August, 1943,
showing men of the 438th AAA, training at Camp Edwards

CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE

23 August, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

Wellfleet, Mass

August 23, 1943 1 p.m.

Dear Girl,

Are my lips a bit sore? Yes, a little, but ah – so pleasantly! I trust you are well yourself, dear. Following your Dad’s careful directions, I managed to get on the right road home, arriving at camp just at midnight. I didn’t pick anyone up. I felt like riding along alone with my own thoughts, without interruptions, and really it seemed like no time at all before the ride was over. Of course, I didn’t have to stop thinking when I climbed into my cot. You know, it’s awfully nice thinking in bed, that is, if you’re thinking nice things – and I was thinking nice things.

Five forty-five a.m. came early in the morning for some strange reason. The motor convoys lined up on schedule (no, there were no photographers around) and the medical section pulled out at 7:14 or 0714. It was after ten when we got here, and before you knew it we were eating again. That just about brings me up to date.

But how about the past? Well, needless to say I had a very pleasant and happy week-end. Sunday was perfect, dear; it’s been a long time since my mind has been so completely free from problems of one sort or another, and the more I think of it the more amazed I am at the clean, refreshing stimulation you have given it. My own reactions to you should be more apparent and less enigmatic, and if you should wonder at some of the things I say or the way I say them, read into them the things you might like to read, perhaps, and you’ll be on the right track I assure you –

Today is clear & bright out here and we’ll certainly get some firing in this p.m. and evening. According to the ammunition officer whom I made a point of contacting as soon as we got here, if there are no rains, fogs, air-plane trouble etc – we have about 2-3 days firing, including the nights. That would bring us back to camp about Thursday, which would suit me to a T. One hitch has already developed, namely, my dental officer is sick in the hospital, having developed an intestinal disorder this week-end. He’s supposed to be out in time. However, dear, I’m not letting that worry me particularly. If we get back to Edwards, I’ll try to get someone to cover me, and I’ll tell the Colonel nothing. The big thing is to get out of Wellfleet by Saturday, so let’s have some good weather, please.

I’m using my Sergeant’s desk and he’s anxious to get started on some typing, dear, so I’m going to stop now. I’m already looking forward keenly to next week-end and it makes little difference to me what we do or with whom – as long as you’re with me. So until later on, dear – so long for now.

Love,

Greg

18 August, 1943 (Route of the ?)

No letter today. The last letter was written on 16 August.

Route of the Question Mark

Here are pages 14 and 15 from The Route of the Question Mark, describing some of the months preceding Greg's meeting Wilma. You can see scanned pages at the tab above of the same name.

pp. 14 and 15

The cold, the mud, the pine-trees, and the hogs... The unbelievable fires that Waters used to build, and the fires that every section in the Battery used to huddle around... All the shaved heads, and Capt Rovzar holding formations to make sure that our hair had been cut short enough... Ticks... Capt Silvis becoming Battery Commander, our first proof that War is Hell... Chaplain Carlson, "Where's the latrine? What time is chow? Throw me my bedding roll!"... The Reds... The Blues... Anacoca... Lena... Boyce... The night of the paratroop attack, and the confusion that resulted when we left our hill-top to go down into the swamp to capture them... Lt Friberg singing Bell Bottomed Trousers... Joe Zecker, the Battery Commander's orderly... Crossing the Mississippi River at Memphis, on the way to Tennessee... Jolly Jack... The month in the mud in Shelbyville... The juke joints in that town... The week-ends in Nashville... The bivouac area by the stream, where we could go swimming, and we'd be there yet if they hadn't made us get out... The week in May on that Tennessee hill-top... Gallatin, Tennessee, which smelled just like honeysuckle... Callahan's triumphant return from California... Easter Sunday, when we attended an out-door service (compulsory) dressed in sun-tans for the first time that year... The two puppies which Sgt Cook adopted and which became Battery pets until they grew up and got spoiled... The week in South Carolina when we lived near the airport and were inspected from morning till night...

The long trip back to Camp Edwards, when our approved costume for train-riding was fatigues and bare feet... Tent city... Non-coms classes... Buzzards Bay... The Blue Moon... The King Midas... The Oyster Bar... Onset... The impressive inspections... "Start worrying"...

16 August, 1943

438th AAA AW BN

Camp Edwards, Mass

August 16, 1943

Wilma, Dear –

No depression exists today. For awhile this morning I wasn’t sure that I existed, and then it all came back to me, - a girl, a moon and alcohol. Ah! There’s the rub! I understand there’s a strong movement again for something like the old Prohibition Act. I’m inclined to think it would be a good idea, but I want to think it over a little more, ie. – think and drink. And then if I can’t make up my mind say after 30-40 years, I’m going to vote for a Moratorium.

Anyway. I was sleepy-eyed driving home or rather to Camp last nite. We got in somewhat after twelve (Mido time). I had a fair amount of work to do this morning, have just had lunch and I’m going over to the Obstacle Course after I’m through writing to you.

You know, one of the reasons I’m writing you so early is that I’m not sure when your Birthday is. I though you said the 17th, one week, but then you changed it last week. Anyway – in view of your uncertainty, and in lieu of the real thing, I felt I ought to express my wishes one way or another, so –

___________________________________

HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Poem expressing same wish as title,
With own choice of sentiment.

Trimmings maybe flowers, a pretty cottage.
(Very popular is the use of a Scotty)
___________________________________

If I learn later that it was your Birthday after all, dear – we can celebrate at another date, and next year I’ll send you two (2) cards and perhaps something else.

Enough of that. This week, as I told you, we have no field problems or firing – so dammit I’ll be off nice and early. However, I have something in the nature of a surprise. Coming back last nite, the Col. told me about a testimonial dinner he planned to attend next Monday in Boston – and that he was probably going to take a one day Leave, which means he wouldn’t have to be back until Tues. evening, which in turn means he’ll be off Sat, Sun, Mon & Tues, which is 4 days. The interesting point is that he used the word “we” when he talked about it, implying that as long as he was going to be off, I might as well also. I gave him a terrific argument, but finally succumbed. (You know me, dear.) It’s not definite, but I feel reasonably certain that I’ll be off those days; if so how about my seeing you or should I say your seeing me Monday, Tuesday or both? I haven’t been in town on a week-day for a long time. It ought to be fun.

The boys are waiting so I’d better stop now. Have a good time at the wedding and let’s hear from you soon. Again – best wishes. So long.

Sincerely,

Greg