I recently sent some pictures home; they are the first of some odds and ends that I must clear out in the next couple of weeks—it’s a long haul from Germany to Spokane! The Army encourages us to carry only the barest essentials. I won’t have too much trouble in that respect, as I am not as great an accumulator of “stuff and junk” as most GI’s.
One picture I enclosed was a flattering view of Munich —it isn’t in as good condition as it appears. Only a place like that could keep us at a place like this on our days-off!
Bavaria is in the icy grip of sub-zero weather now, and we’re freezing our big ears off. It hasn’t been warmer than 15-20 above (I’d guess) the last two days; yes sir, the thermometer has taken a nosedive. We have about five inches of snow with some ice under it. The only enjoyment the Krauts have had since V-Day is watching the victorious American supermen slip on the ice and snow and come crashing down on their well-fed posteriors! (Unlike most GI’s, I’m getting to hate these people more every day I’m here. I suppose some will say that Germany is the cleanest, most modern country in Europe and that the Germans are a wonderful, if somewhat misunderstood people. Bah! They ought to take them all out and shoot them.)
I received letters from home on Nov. 17th and 20th. It looks like Mom and Dad were getting just a little ahead of me concerning this redeployment situation. I hope they don’t think I would start on my way home without telling them. I’m approximately 7,500 miles from Washington. The entire journey may take a month or so after I leave Erding, counting the stops and layovers that can easily occur. To go from here to a port on the Atlantic coast of France takes several days of tiresome, uncomfortable traveling in boxcars going along at about 15 m.p.h. And contrary to the impression fostered by the movies and newspapers, most GI’s do not sail on large luxury liners but on Liberty and Victory ships and assorted banana boats, also making about 15 m.p.h.!! Ha Ha! Those are the conditions that prevail, as Jimmy Durante has said.
Let’s drop that subject for a minute. The U.S. Army, as you may have heard, has thousands of Germans on the payroll now, and more are being hired every day. German women work in nearly all Army mess halls—and what a wonderful job that is for a hungry Heinie! Recently a surprise inspection and search was pulled at one of our bases, and it was discovered that only 98% of the German personnel had stolen food concealed on their persons. How do you like that? No rations are allowed for civilian personnel—they eat their meals out of the GI’s rations, and then try to smuggle out everything they can carry. Too bad they’re not built like cows, so that they can eat the stuff and subsequently bring it up and sell it or whatever they do with it! German women workers were searched by WAC’s. Not only were there all kinds of hidden pockets for carrying food, but some women were found with butter smeared on their arms (under sleeves) and other such tricks as that. Many women had hidden food in their bosoms. Zounds! You’d be surprised how much food could disappear that way!—one need not be in Germany long to see that! Well, I must hurry and finish this note; got to go to the mess hall and try to organize a football team of eleven of those frauleins to represent Erding! Our GI’s didn’t win a game this season. P.S.—We Americans are a bunch of easy-going fools. When are we going to get wise to ourselves?
Back in Ireland, after VE-Day, I amassed the staggering total of 48 points, with 85 then required for discharge. Bob says to me, “Will the day ever come when are high-point men?”. I didn’t try for the $64—a bird in the hand, you know. Come VJ-Day and I inveigled an unwilling Army to donate 8 additional points to the cause. And now, on Dec. 9th, I find myself a dyed-in-the-wool-and-a-yard-wide, honest-to-goodness high-pointer—-that I should live so long! Not only that, but the Captain has put my name on the door as NCO i/c (noncommissioned officer in charge). With Bob gone and Herb in Paris, I’m alone in the office. There’s work enough for three men, but who and what am I in charge of? Fortunately, there is a radio in the office, so I don’t become too board.
I’ll end this with a bang: I haven’t been extremely enthusiastic about the prospect of going home after 2 ½ years overseas, have I? I realize that I haven’t, and there is a reason. Since about the middle of October, I have been making inquiries in regard to my being discharged over here and being employed as a civilian by the Civil Service Commission, for duty with the Army. Thousands of men have already done that very thing. The pay is good, far better than what is being paid in the states for similar work. For a fellow who planned to start school next fall but was wondering what to do until that time, it looked like a good chance to make some gelt. Before going to Switzerland, I made formal application for job and salary rating (merely a request for information). The whole thing is at present so snarled up with red tape that I will likely be home before they get around to considering my application.
Actually, I thought I would have an answer by this time; I could then make my decision, leaving with the other 56-pointers if I didn’t like the set-up offered me. If I wished to stay here and find out what action will be taken on my request, I could have my name scratched from the shipment. After some serious thought, I have decided that I will not do that under any circumstances. So, here’s how the matter stands: If I do not hear anything concerning the application up to the day I leave, I will go back to the states in the regular manner. If action is taken by the higher-ups at an earlier date then I anticipate, and if an attractive offer is made to me before the shipping date, there is some chance that I will sign up. In which case I will come home next summer! Simple, eh?
[letterstohome copyright 2008]