March 19, 1944 Sunday

March 19, 1944 Sunday

Dearest Honey,

Here is Sunday again and another chance to think a little while I write. Am sure you realize that I write whenever I possibly can. Nevertheless, I am really sorry to have missed so frequently lately. These are not usual weeks, tho. So cheer up, after next week things should be relatively settled for a while.

You see, ever since we hit tank gunnery we have been in the weeks that usually tell the story on who will be here after 17 weeks. Tank gunnery, Cedar Creek, map reading and suitability week. During those weeks everything counts, and pressure is consciously built up to new highs every week. They do a very good job at it, too. Map reading brought the peak. And this last week the whole class has been very tight almost continually. Each man was really all out. We all passed the first big map reading test. We have one more coming Tuesday. That, and the fact that next week is “suitability week” are the two main hurdles left. I feel that I’m O.K. on suitability, and should get by the map reading exam all right.

It is very interesting to watch the men as the pressure rises. It is all done so subtly, and it is so effective. They get the men to working much harder than getting a commission even warrants. But they do it by insinuation that leaves your imagination free to build up its own pressure.

Starting with the 9th week they started to build on to the usual rate of pressure by just giving more work than we could really do. Then they started holding back test grades for a longer and longer time – letting us “sweat out” exams as the dropped hints of how many had flunked. Then before map reading, although we all knew that it was the critical course, they held a very formal meeting in which the company commander read the regulation that anyone “who, after receiving adequate information and instruction on map reading, fails to achieve a satisfactory grade, should be relieved of his status as a candidate.” The instructors never mention this fact in map reading lectures, but their manner of teaching implies it all the time. They teach much more carefully than in most courses. And every word they say is planned. There is always a high ranking officer or two in the rear, checking to see the instruction is adequate.

All in all, the effect is to get the men more tense than they had ever been. Strange silences come over the squad room when not a man is talking. Bunkmates as a rule do not get along very well together. And the occasional nervous laughter over a lousy joke is as unusual as silence in the barracks.

The test Friday broke it down a lot, because we found that a map reading test is within the reach of some human beings, but a lot of the men are still pretty taut. Tom and I have been taking note of all these things, and while we haven’t been exactly relaxed ourselves, we have kept our feet on the ground much better than some. It is an atmosphere that I have never seen before—as if each man were walking on a tight rope over Niagara. It is very silly when you think that all they are after is a pair of pink pants! But I guess the fear of flunking out after investing so much also enters in.

There, that’s out of the way. Now how are you, Sweetheart? I love you very much. It’s best for you not to count too much on furlough plans. The only thing to do is to realize how fluid all plans are. If you become convinced that anything is going to happen, you get hit much harder when it doesn’t. It’s a good thing to know, because then you won’t be fooled so often. Nothing wastes so much time as sitting around waiting for something to happen. We’ll have plans, but will know that they are plans only, and live from day to day.

Oh, a major event in my minor life happened yesterday—I turned in my rifle and was not issued another one! A soldier without a rifle is a rare and happy animal. A rifle is the main item in an inspection, and it sure feels fine to be without it.

Ma writes that this farmer-draft question may eventually effect Bob, which I hope is completely idle rumor.

Was glad to hear about Jeff and Ralph Rieth. Would like to see them both. Sometime I must re-contact them and Sherm and several others whom I have let drift off since I have been here.

I have a heavy date with a couple of maps and aerial photos this p.m. They say it takes more time than usual, so I must start early.

Have been absorbing your pictures a lot lately. I keep them with my stationery. Like them a lot. ‘Bye now, Bunny, I love you always and always.

All yours,
Wallace


March 19, 1944 Sunday
Dear folks,

Just got your letter this noon. Still have to pity you all for your weather. This last week there were days that at noon were just a trifle too warm for comfort.

Have just finished a busy week of studying map reading for at least 9 hours a day. Have a lot of instruments and maps that are very fascinating. We surveyed an area, and plotted in highways, and Friday night we took a march by compass. It is fun, but you have to be too absolutely accurate and neat for my abilities.

Next week we will finish map reading and go into tactics. It is also “suitability week”—the week the tac officers turn in their final opinions on each candidate. If I get thru that O.K., things will definitely be looking up.

There is no doubt that the war is lasting too long. I don’t see how they can possibly get along if they take farmers, too. But it will probably take some time before they start it. Army wheels turn slowly, so don’t borrow worries by imagining things that haven’t happened.

Give Old Russ my thank—as you were, my tanks for his punitive and puny letter. Can’t decide whether he is a flashy wit or a witty flash. Would like to respond in kind, but my correspondence is necessarily limited these days—at least for a few more weeks. I include him in these letters.

Love to all,
Wallace