May 4, 1944 Thursday

Dear Hon,

Here’s a new brand of bad taste, but I swear it is all I can get at the P.X. Case of necessity, not choice. Wish they would leave some space to write in. What kind of a plane is it? (Close to a B-25) What model tank? (Ha, ha, M4)

That concludes today’s quiz. Some more news came in today on our future. Fun to watch things work out day by day, isn’t it? Got my bivouac assignment today. They were assigned alphabetically and I find myself at the head of a reconnaissance platoon. That is both good and bad. For our immediate future, it is good. They say that the recon outfit is an easy job, so I may end up in better condition. I was anticipating really getting my teeth into the meat of leading a tank platoon, tho. Here I will have a half track and two peeps, I believe. That’s not a recon platoon according to the book, but what they have here. My duties will be to run reconnaissance problems, go ahead of the company and scout out bivouac sites, keep everybody from getting lost, and do most of the jobs nobody else has to do. Will satisfy my recent dream of putting around in a peep and looking official, tho. The heart-rending job of tank maintenance and recovery will not be mine. Some say the RCN platoon contains most of the company’s illiterates, which I hope is not true. The schedule for the platoon is not full; they do not have problems every day. On the off days we do our own company work.

We will have the 18th battalion, which is currently rumored to be all black and to contain all the Fort’s illiterates. Don’t see how they can both be true. Anyway, that leaves me with the illiteratest of the illiterates. Well, Binet and Simon did all right with feeble minded people to work with.

Tonite I took my blouse, not the R.O.T.C. one, a pair of pinks, summer khakis and assorted shirts and ties to the cleaners. Theoretically I will next wear the blouse when we get married. I will also sort out what things I’ll take home and what things I will mail to the Fort to my A.R.T.C. address. Then when I come off the bivouac on May 19, I will be all set to leave immediately. Just think, by this Saturday I will be all ready to get married. Then for two weeks of the primitive life. After that, we’ll be together. I’m very happy with the world. Great place, isn’t it?

It’s raining as tho its heart would break today and tonite. Trainees got all muddy and their morale was next to zero, so I spent most of my critiques trying to cheer them up. Developed quite a little song and dance that should have left them raring to go. They react very easily. Come up so glum and cold and wet. I built a big fire for them to stand around while I critiqued their problems, told them how good they were and told an old story or two to illustrate in a funny way why they have to go thru the discomfort of maneuvers.

The old men are hardest. Their bones just creak crawling in and out of tanks all day – and they are so beat by the army system. They act like whipped dogs. I think it’s because they don’t get treated with the respect they used to – no traineed does – and they can’t find a way to get used to it. A decent word or two to them helps, and if you can find time to talk about their civilian jobs they relax a lot. Then you can slide right into the problem at hand and they think about it as a man should, not like a scared trainee.

By the way, I had an assistant today – Private Brosnahan from South Dakota. Had point one, where I played the part of a machine gun and Private Brosnahan took a rifle and fired blanks at the side of the tanks. Great team we had. He’s the man who cleans the rifle at the end of the day, bless his soul.

Aunt Flossie sent me a card for being a Louie. I answered it yesterday and let her know that we would be glad to receive any information she could give us as a result of Alden’s furlough wedding. Should pave the way if you want to enlist her on our wedding projects as before. She’s good at that kind of stuff.

Last Monday there was a picture of the UNH men that got commissions here, in the Manchester Union. That is the remnant of 50 infantry juniors who studied together when we left for Wheeler. We’ve had some great experiences together. I’d like a copy of the picture very much, if you see an old Union laying around. Maybe my mother can find one from some of her friends.

This would be a good night for one of those walks in the rain. We would need some good raincoats, tho, and we’d have to avoid where the tanks have been or go over our heads in mud. So let’s have it be along a good sidewalk somewhere. We’ll just stroll along as if we didn’t know it was raining. Be nice when we get back, too, warm and snug. Maybe some coffee (or tea, if you must) before we go to bed. Some ripe olives, too, even if they are out of order with coffee.

‘Nite now,
I love you always,
Wallace