Thursday, July 8, 1943
Dear Mom,
My Independence Day was a little bit drier than yours. I went to Dallas with G and we had what could be classified as a glorious fourth. Sat. night we saw Sweethearts in the “Operetta under the stars” and wandered around the amusement park that is around it. Sunday we saw Southern Methodist and the rest of Dallas. These two events were interspersed with steak dinners (but good), running into guys we knew from Miami, milk shakes, and sleeping in a good hotel bed. It took ten hours and 300 miles of traveling to get there and back but it was worth it.
I’m glad that you’re having such a grand time up there. In spite of the fact that it’s a little obvious, I’m going to say that I wish I were with you. Did the old man keep to his plans and go back to Canton yet? According to the good time you’re having, I don’t suppose he did. If you are still there, pop, I want you to tell me what is going on with Sugardale? How does it differ from what it was six months, one year, and two years ago in respects to the quantity and quality and price of the products, as well as the employees?—also what’s happening with subsidies and what’s the outlook for the future? What do you have to do exactly with the ration stamps and how are you handling them? How does the profit and loss sheet and balance sheet compare to what it was three months ago, in percent? Etc. I’d really like to know, pop.
Don’t worry about my glasses. I’m getting two pair of G.I.s free, but not in a hurry. There was a mix-up and now I’m supposed to get them tomorrow. As soon as I do get them I’ll send my pair back to be repaired (one lens is out) because no matter what is wrong with one’s glasses the govt. won’t fix them—they’ll give you two new pairs instead.
As for my weight, it’s 159 with clothes on, which would be about 155 or 156 without. They weighed me in at the induction center at 152. Hard work can only make you lose weight by sweating and burning up fat. You can drink all the sweat loss back, and you can regain the energy loss by eating the right food. Regular eating and sleeping hours is what is keeping me in shape.
Where’s the pictures of you around the Lodge?11 Do they still have those dances over the lake to an orchestra? I suppose it’s too late to tell you now, but remember that sun. I went out in it for an hour and a half the first time and was burned sore for five days.
Lots’a love Carl
. . .
Saturday, July 17, 1943
Hi pop,
So you finally broke down and wrote a letter! Well, I appreciated the gesture even if I couldn’t read the words. I gathered that you were worried about the recoil of the big guns and about my ambition and progress in progressing. Well, my ambition is to get into A.S.T.P. or O.C.S. Since O.C.S. has been about 80% eliminated and more experience is required, I’m trying now for A.S.T.P. which stands for the Army Specialized Training Program. It is a nine months course at a college and it also gives college credit. You have to pass three interviews to get in and complete your basic. I have passed the first one so far, about two or three weeks ago. All I can do now is wait. You know the old army byword—“hurry up and wait.” Anyways you have to complete your basic before you can get into A.S.T.P., which means another month or so for me.
We moved out into the woods a few days ago, by the way. It’s pretty good, if you don’t mind the dirt and the lack of water. There are five guys with us in this tent, all from Ohio. Three are from Akron, one from Alliance, and one from Warren. All are college boys and we get along pretty well together, and have a pretty good time.
There are two things that I’m pretty much in need of. One is a pair of shorts or a bathing suit. The other is an old worn out bag to keep my toilet articles, writing stuff, etc. in. I think there is an old gym bag around that’s about one foot by two feet by a foot and a half. If so, send it on please; or any other bag of that general size. A bag is the only thing we can keep things in—a box won’t do.
Pop, if after the war you can get hold of some G.I. trucks, for God’s sake do it. We went on a cross-country convoy and I was in a loaded 2-1/2 ton White truck. That 2-1/2 ton job went up places that no car and few motorcycles would climb. Very hard to slide or overturn and impossible to wreck.
Yesterday we dug slit trenches and machine gun emplacements all day. The temperature was 110 in the shade—and we weren’t in the shade!
Don’t worry about gun recoils pop. We don’t get big guns for a while yet anyways and if that was all I had to worry about in the way of danger it would be nice. I’ve learned to keep my eyes open.
On night maneuvers three days ago I was in a tactical situation where I had to lie in one spot for two and a half hours. The next day I learned that that spot was a poison ivy patch. It sounds pretty funny, but it’s not to me. I haven’t been able to hardly sleep since. We’re having some more maneuvers tonight. This time I think I’ll burn out any area first that I have to lie in.
Tell me how Sugardale is doing, old man. Take it easy.
Love Carl
. . .
After hot Texas runs, Carl’s sweat and body salt would leave a u-shaped stain on his shirt. He was thirsty and could use a cold Coca-Cola from the drinks cooler provided at the end of the run. But since he was not usually in front of the pack, no Cokes remained. The only soda left was Dr. Pepper, a Waco drink that was a novelty for a midwestern soldier. Even decades after the war, Carl wouldn’t drink the stuff. All those years later, he still associated its taste with his runs in the desert.
. . .
Sunday, July 25, 1943
Hi, Family! –
This letter is doing a big job. It’s answering about three of yours. But our free time here in bivouac is even more limited than in the barracks. It’s next to impossible to answer letters at any time other than weekends.
Hey, pop, there’s just a couple of things I’d still like to know—what percent of the mortgage do you still have to pay? And what percent of normal meat sales are you selling? By the way, there isn’t very much of a shortage of meat down in Texas. It’s not hard at all to buy a large steak at a restaurant, although I still haven’t found one yet that had the quality of Birdseye.
What do you think of my going to West Point? There’s an opening for sixty-two men from the eighth service command (about two million soldiers). You have to have an aptitude test of 135 (mine is 141), be 19 to 22 (I’m 19), be in the army one year by July 1, 1944 (thirteen and a half months by then) and sign up for eight years. You go to a college from Sept 1943 to July 1944 and then take the test to enter West Point. It’s something I’d like to get into, because the peacetime army is much freer than this, and the army interests me more than any business I know of. Of course the chances of my getting in are just about aren’t, but I can try. I’m going to speak to the first sergeant about it as soon as possible. Don’t say anything about this to anyone by the way.
You know it made me feel good to receive both of your last letters; you both seemed so happy. Are you still going around with the Canadian smart set, mom? And are you still under-trimming the pork loins, pop? Do you still have as many fights as you used to? I’d really like to see how just the two of you get along together.
I’ve been telling the fellas about your love-making efforts.12 They’ve been getting quite a kick out of it. Does it take you back to your younger days? But no kidding, I’m glad you did. She seems to be a pretty swell kid. I’m still waiting for her picture, and I’m still waiting for a lot of yours. I still haven’t any of me; and I’m not too sure you’d like to have me take one for awhile with my hair a quarter of an inch long, my face swollen and covered with medicine from poison ivy, and not having chewed in four days for the same reason - also a young mustache which I am experimenting with.
Excuse the status of this paper, s’il vous plait. They’re Coke stains and Coke is too valuable around here to throw away. I’ll just have to send it on.
Our basic training should be over in about two weeks.