March 18, 1944
Dear Mrs. Lavin,
I’m sorry that the “fortunes of war” are such that we won’t have the opportunity of meeting.
Carl had spoken so fondly of his family so often that I was really looking forward to seeing you all. Well, some other time perhaps. My thanks to you anyway for your thoughtful invitation.
It was fun having Carl here, Mrs. Lavin, and if he enjoyed being here as much as we enjoyed having him—no other thanks are necessary.
Carl tells me that you and Mr. Lavin are celebrating an anniversary. My sincere hope that it will be a happy one and that your next anniversary will be even happier for having both your sons with you.
Sincerely, Edith
. . .
Mar 23, 1944
Wednesday
Dear Mom,
We move out this evening, but no one knows where or when. The best rumors center around Louisiana—but. Anyways, I’ll let you know when I get there. It’ll probably be at least three days. That’s about all I can tell you about what’s going to happen to me. I’ve never been so much in the dark in the army before. All we can do is wait and see.
I’m certainly going to hate to leave this place. Even discounting Edith I’ve still had a better time here than any like period in my life. I’ve never felt before that I was actually learning something, but I felt that here. I’ve never known a group of guys that I enjoyed being part of as much as these, and in fact everyone feels that way. We had a farewell banquet Monday night, and you never saw such an exhibition of picture taking, autograph trading, and fare-thee-well trading.
All I hope is that we all get somewhere together. By the way, should I send Edith’s parents something to thank them? If so, what?
What do you think of this picture of her? I took it; she’s better looking than this. Did you and dad get your pictures taken yet? I wish you would, really.
By the time you answer this I suppose you will have heard from Fred what’s going to happen to him?
Well, keep looking out the window. Maybe I’ll pass through Canton again.
With love Carl
P.S.—I’m sending some stuff home in packages. Keep it, mom. Carl
. . .
When the army ended the lion’s share of the ASTP program, all of the affected men were assigned to the infantry. For Carl, it was the 69th Division, based in southern Mississippi.35
For a New York minute, Carl had a girl, a great education, a path to officership, and all the Big Apple trimmings. But that was not to be Carl’s future. His fate was bullets over Broadway.
After spending months at college, enjoying Edith’s company and experiencing New York City as best he could, Carl was back on the parade grounds. He was posted to Camp Shelby near Hattiesburg, Mississippi, where spring brought pleasant weather but summer could unleash wilting temperatures in the 90s.
Not only was school over for Carl and the other ASTPers, but ending as well was the path to officership, the camaraderie of the classroom, and the safety of academia. The students had been told they were the nation’s smartest soldiers, specially selected for advancement, but instead of becoming officers, Carl and the rest of the ASTP bunch were being sent back to the regular army without anything to show for it. There were no extra stripes, promotions, or fast tracks. Worse, through their ASTP participation they had foregone the normal military training and advancement that would have been available to them. And to add the misery, they were late in joining already established units, with settled leadership and friendships.1
At one time, Camp Shelby was the busiest US training facility during World War II. With an official capacity of 84,000, Camp Shelby found itself with a population of over 100,000 at least twice during the war. At Camp Shelby, Carl was assigned to the 69th Infantry Division and became a rifleman. General Patton noted that riflemen “inflicted 37% of casualties on the enemy, but took 92 per cent of the formation’s losses.”2
Now placed with a combat unit for a second time, Carl rekindled his thoughts as to how he could take his leave from it. If the system had an opening, Carl would try to find it.
And, to Carl’s consternation, Dorothy would pursue her motherly designs as well.
. . .
Mar 25, 1944
Friday nite
Hi, Mom,
Just arrived here, but haven’t gotten assigned permanently yet, so I don’t know my address as yet. But it’ll be on this envelope. So far all I know is that I’ll be in the 69th Division here at Camp Shelby Mississippi. I’ll be in either the tank destroyers or the infantry; I hope the former but I’m afraid it’ll be the latter. We’re all getting split up, so I don’t know who, if, or how many of the guys from Queens will be in my company.
We’re only 130 miles from New Orleans, Ma. Don’t we have a lot of relatives there? Give me the addresses of someone I’d like to see, willya? I don’t know I’ll have a chance to see them or not, though, because we’re going out on maneuvers in three weeks.
You should see the weather down here now. We couldn’t ask for any better spring weather. The temperature is around 70 and everything is green and blooming. Of course, everything is also getting washed away by the floods, but we’re discounting that.
Well, write as soon as you receive this and let me know what you know, and what Fred knows.
Love—Carl
. . .
Leo, who served stateside during World War I as a Supply Corps Sergeant, passes on some sound advice to Carl: See if you can stay out of the infantry.
. . .
Apr 2 1944
Sunday
Dear Pop,
I told some of the guys about the advice you gave me. It got quite a laugh. When I learned they were closing ASTP I said that the last thing I wanted to get into was the infantry. If there were any possible way of getting into anything else I assure you I would take them. But there isn’t—you can’t even volunteer for the paratroopers anymore. If anything does come up in the future I intend to do what I can to help myself. You needn’t worry about that. Incidentally, about a third of my company is made up of former ASTP men, so that I still have the kind of guys to go around with that I did back at school. I’m really very lucky in that respect. Everybody from Queens came into this division with me, and quite a few into my regiment so that I’m continuously running into them. (It comes in quite handy at times. In the evenings, there are always long lines waiting to see the movies and it’s nice to know that no matter which one you go to, you’ll find someone that’ll let you get in line beside him.) Three of the guys from Queens are in my company and in my barracks. My friend, George, is in the next company to mine, so we get to see quite a bit of each other.
I can’t exactly say I like the place, but at least it’s tolerable. We’ve been having all you could ask for in the way of perfect spring weather, the food is the best I’ve had since I entered the army, the training has been easy and even interesting at times, and I’ve become closely acquainted with some of the guys in our company. For the first five or six days it was pretty hard though. I was really homesick for New York I guess. And then it was raining continuously and they were giving us some training that I’ve had at least three different times before and that is very uncomfortable physically.3
I spent the last three days going through Combat in Cities, the Infiltration Course, and the Close Combat Course. This is the one you probably heard about,