21st General
France
Hello, my dearest Honey,
I must bring you up on my activities first thing today. I have been relatively active the past few days, so I will adopt your system and tell you about my doings chronologically.
Way last Thursday you became the only person on my mind all day. Another series of letters came in and as always they were so wonderful I went around in a cloud for a long time. They are so full of thought and understanding and love. You are the perfect wife, Hon. Even tho you are away, your letters bring you right to me. I am awfully grateful and happy that I have such a wife. Just lucky, too, I think when I ask myself how it ever happened. I can only try to be as good a husband, and if I fail it’s because of inability and not thru lack of love. Please know I love you a thousand times more than I can ever write in a letter. You’ll see when I come back – I’ll never let you go, Bunny. I’ll just hand around til you me our of the kitchen or someplace so I won’t bother you. Even then, I don’t believe I’d go far.
Thanks for the pictures of you, the children and the Xmas tree. They are swell. I can’t get over how those letters come thru. I am still getting football scores. Each bunch seems to range from Nov. to the middle of January. So if you asked anything urgent, don’t despair, Hon, maybe that one hasn’t reached me even yet. I’m very glad you write so often, tho, every last word is appreciated to the full – also the words that precede it!
Well, to get down to cases – Obie came Thursday night, and early Friday morning we took off in an ambulance for division headquarters. Pleasant, sunny trip thru rolling hills and villages of dilapidated red-roofed, stucco (not “staccato”!) houses to Chateau-Salins. I took pictures there of Obie and the men of “C” Co. who were there either as witnesses or as clerks who stay regularly at the administrative center. No, I took the picture at Averycourt, then we proceded to Chateau-Salins.
There was nothing in Chateau-Salins of interest as far as civilian attractions go. It has changed hands plenty of times. I stayed at the medics since I was still a patient. But I was clothed at least and did little but sleep there. We swapped stories all evening – there were many of the old bunch there. Saw G. and talked with him. He kept his thoughts pretty much to himself, but was friendly and courageous enough. We helped him all we could.
Saturday, the trial. It took all day. I don’t believe I have gone into much detail on it, and can’t go too far without my censor-spirit popping up. It was general court martial, as is required for an officer. I was on the stand for only a few minutes – giving the company dispositions. The rest of the day I sat in the witness room talking with the witnesses. Wrote a letter to you, also, but had to send it “Free,” not airmail, so no telling when you’ll get it. The trial pertained to our first Herrlisheim affair, about a week before I was wounded. Gino was charged by Major Zapitz with “misconduct before the enemy.” The situation was irregular and I wouldn’t have done what Gino did. He moved his outfit without notifying the rest of the company to a point in the rear. But to me it was an “error of judgment” not a criminal affair at all. Maybe it should have called for transfer or reclassification, but not this. It is so clear that some people are simply not temperamentally able to do the kind of work up there. Reclassification is not a disgrace at all. It puts a man in a place where he can do a good job, and doesn’t keep an unqualified person responsible up front. Nobody that was in Herrlisheim can “blame” Gino. The wonder is that anybody stayed there, not that some didn’t.
The results of a trial are secret until announced by the court. So I do not know how it came out. I deduce he was not acquitted because he was in custody after the trial. The general atmosphere gave me the impression he got it pretty stiff. I’ll let you know when.
After the trial I went to personnel to get the wheels a-rolling on a new A.G.O. card and dog-tags et al. Got the papers on my promotion to 1st Lt. for duration +6 in the A.U.S., then it will revert to my original grade in the O.R.C. Are all those letters meaningful? O.R.C. is Officers’ Reserve Corps, a permanent organization. A.U.S. is all duration +6. O.R.C. may be either good or bad for me. Time alone will tell. The order is by command of General Patch, a rapid battlefield promotion requiring no acceptance or oath. Says “Having clearly demonstrated fitness for promotion by outstanding performance in actual combat...are promoted to the grade of 1st Lt.” Dated Feb. 1st – I raised my allotment to you to $210 per month – here is how we stand now:
base pay 166
+10% overseas 17
subsistence 42
rental 75
___
$300
Then you deduct a bond and insurance to get the cash. Ins=6.50; bond=18.75
Lt. Trusley gave me a ride to the company. It is spread out over about 50 miles as a sort of connecting screen to the rear. The men are resting, mainly, and have comfortable houses, by infantry standards. The almost 100% replacements left few privates I knew, but company headquarters looked the same. Sgt. Fee, Hunneman, and all. We had an enthusiastic reunion. I stayed overnite and left in the morning. The C.P. is in an old cafe in a small typical Alsace town. Stucco or concrete houses, all grouped together in a compact little village. Each with a large straw-mixed dung pile instead of a front lawn. You feel as if each side was the rear of the combined houses and stables. The living quarters are very modern, however – electricity, running water. They worked in this town, which makes it very exceptional in this country at this time. As in all France, you can’t drink the faucet water. Can’t do that even at the hospital with its almost ultra-modern buildings. We drink G.I. water or wine when and if available. I slept in the cafe in a sleeping bag, which is S.O.P., of course, at the company. We “drag out the sack” instead of going to bed. Being away a while made me look with new eyes on the daily life at the company. Before, I was so immersed in it that I wasn’t aware of what parts were strange. Of course it is all weird, as far as that goes and you have to live it to get the “G.I. spirit” which is very real, if an intangible and indescribable thing.
Sunday morning I went out with Lt. Young in a peep to visit the scattered squads in surrounding villages. Saw maybe 4 men of my old second platoon – but more are returning from hospitals now. Naturally, we got lost. But unnaturally, the peep ceased to function in a town in which there were no soldiers at all. Maybe we captured the place, I don’t know. Nobody but gaping German-speaking Alsacians around. Arnold finally got us rolling. We got back to the company, but late. Took a half-track to division and an ambulance back to the hospital. That brought me here at supper time.
I’ll close now, Honey, but promise to write more this p.m. Meantime I’ll be thinking of you and loving you just as hard as possible. I feel very good today, not any of the strange inhibitions that make it hard for me to write of things over here sometimes. That’s a funny thing that happens quite a lot. Not there today, tho, so maybe I’ll be able to say I love you better while my mind is free of them. I’ll write more, my honey.
Love,
Wallace
