June 27, 1944 Monday

Woods
Dear Hon,

We know the army too well to be surprised that I’m not coming in when I said I would. That doesn’t stop me from tearing my hair because we’ll have to plan on my coming in Saturday night now.

Please don’t be too discouraged because we haven’t seen much of each other, yet. These are not normal things, even for the 12th—and by staying out here now, we will be in for next week. After the Corps test things should return to routine, and this change in schedule gets us to Bowie and back much earlier than we have planned.

I love to have you so close now. Get very exasperated because I can’t get in to you, but it is a much less serious kind of feeling than the loneliness I felt when you were in New Hampshire.

I am very worried over your housing situation. Am praying that you have reservations for next week, or a room somewhere else. You can write to me out here—same address. Please let me know how you are and what you are doing.

I get paid next Sunday according to the new schedule.

Funny thing, I don’t know whether I am happy or not. It all depends on you—of you are finding it hard to get along or find nice things to do, I feel completely lousy. If you are busying yourself well and are comfortable, I never felt so good. I love to think of my wife in Abilene, happy; but I am miserable thinking that you be in Abilene, unhappy.

Monday morning I found a very fine way to ease up on the bad feeling of leaving you! Just by thinking over again the things we did together. Wasn’t our weekend just perfect? It was wonderful, honey; worth a lifetime. Please write.

All yours, always,
Wallace


June 27, 1944 Monday
Woods
Dear Honey,

Read the other page first—this came later.

This is my mother and father’s anniversary, a pretty big numbered one, too. Wonderful to think of us being together that long, by then there’s nothing we couldn’t do.

I got a letter from your mother—very, very nice one. She is a real lady. Do have trouble making out some words.

Don’t worry the least little bit over me. The only claim I have to be out of heaven is that I wonder how you are. If I knew you were O.K., I would feel perfect—in a state of dynamic equilibrium as some psychologists say. If things are not O.K., let me know and I’ll do something if I have to pull rank on General Brewer to do it. I would, too.

Bye for now, my very special wife. I love you more than you can imagine.

Love again,
Wallace

June 23, 1944 Friday

[From Marjorie to Wallace, a postcard of St. Louis’s Union Station]

St. Louis, 4:45 pm
Not doing any site-seeing—staying right here! Hot, is putting it mildly. Very interesting trip and not really bad, but better from now on. Lots of flat country with corn, wheat and clover fields, and as many pigs as hollyhocks, and there are plenty of hollyhocks! Have met some very nice and friendly wives!
Love,
Marjorie

June 21, 1944 Wednesday

[From Emma Nelson, Marjorie’s grandmother, illegible in places]
Keene, N.H.

Dear Wallace,

Happy Birthday, Wallace, may you live long and prosper.

I am sending my most precious possession to you as your gift, one I have held dear for 22 years and enjoyed every minute of it, the dearest gift in the world, always good and kind to me. I think she will be good and love you dearly too—your dearest friend at any time.

I expect you are going to take care of her and not leave her. Come back with her so we can all be happy together. [I..bother you] to me to have you starting on your new life on your birthday—hope you will at least have 22 years of happiness. I am going to try […] that you come back soon.

Excuse mistakes you know I can’t see—if the sun doesn’t shine soon I will lose all use of my eyes it is so dark.

I wish I could write a verse like the Russells do, wishing you all the nice wishes that are in my heart but I am not smart that way, nothing original in me.

I was glad to hear what became of the case of olives I showed you and didn’t show up at your last dinner.

I will be anxious to hear how you get settled, I know it will be OK. Lots of love to you and Marjorie,
Mom



June 21, 1944 Wednesday

Dear folks,

Am writing rather spasmodically lately. My duties here aren’t so that I can have any kind of schedule. Something new every minute. Work hard a while, then have it very easy.

At present I am platoon leader of the 2nd rifle platoon of “C” company. Expect to have them at least a couple of weeks, but they change around very often.

If they didn’t have a rule that bars infantry officers from transferring now, I would have had a swell break. They wanted me in G-2 (Intelligence) work. They tested my French and were all ready to sent me to Camp Ritchie, Maryland, for a course in Prisoner of War interrogation. They had to stop proceedings because I was an infantry man! Got to know a Major in division G-2, tho, and someday something may come of it.

A belated father’s day greeting to you, Pa. I’ve been neglecting everybody this spring! Been so unsettled, and away from civilization. I’ll get into stride again soon.

Last week our division field test was a flop. We worked our ears off all week on a full scale maneuver with live ammunition, but nobody high up was impressed.

Sure will be good to see Marjorie down here. Maybe we’ll buy a ranch, who knows?

What is Bob’s status? And what’s new in New England?

Love,
Wallace

June 19, 1944 Monday

[One of the few letters included from Marjorie to Wallace]
8:55 p.m. Keene, N.H.
Hello, dearest,

Guess we’ve been keeping the wires hot from Abilene and Keene! Telephone last nite and telegram this morning. They all came so fast and furious that I was stunned. But they were worth it—guess we understand each other now concerning my trip down and conditions in Abilene. Ought to go very smoothly. I’m so all excited and thrilled to be on my way to you. And I’m almost all ready—much to my relief! Had a big day of ironing and fixing some clothes. Tomorrow I’m planning to wash and iron some more tomorrow [sic], also really and actually get at my banking. Intended to today but it has rained so all day that I did things inside instead.

It seemed so wonderful to hear you last nite. The connections weren’t so clear as Louisville’s had been (or maybe I was still half-asleep or half-awake), but you sounded very natural and I did feel very close in spite of 2000 (?) miles. (By the way, how many miles is it?) It was awfully nice to go back to bed and sleep after just hearing you.

Well, here it is Wednesday morning. We had company come in Monday while I was writing so didn’t get to finishing this, and yesterday I worked like mad every minute and didn’t get thru, or stop, until 12 last nite, consequently still not finished. So I’m taking a little while this morning to write some necessary notes—Bill, Tamie, Sara, and Mrs. Craig. I’ve done the latter 3—Bill’s is next. Want to tell him about how I’ve left things up here.

Opened my conservator’s account for Mom yesterday and also ours.

Almost all ready to start, Hon. Am going to ship out 2 suitcases today, so they’ll be on their way. I’m expressing them to the Hotel Wooten, OK?

Maybe you’ll see me before you get this! Won’t be long now, dear. I’m so excited!

See you soon. I’ll be coming as fast as the train does!

All my love, always,

Marjorie

June 18, 1944 Sunday

Dearest Honey,

Music is one thing that is never disappointing. When I haven’t heard any for some time, I forget how meaningful it is. It’s hard to imagine just noted being much to listen to. But when I hear some it changes my whole attitude toward things. Reminds us how beautiful life can be, I guess.

After being on the problem all week, I got so that the whole world seemed to be G.I.—dirt and canvas and guns. Very refreshing to hear the Sunday programs and to think of having you here. You may even be here before you get this letter! [editor: yes, this letter arrived in Keene after Marjorie had left; see note appended by Marjorie’s grandmother, Emma Nelson.] That will be so nice. All we’ve got to do is remember that we are “good music” people, not “G.I.” people. Music seems to express all the clear and pure parts of life that people overlook when the tough parts confront them.

Actually, last week wasn’t at all bad. The 56th was in reserve until Wednesday and I didn’t do much but sit in a peep and read. When we were finally committed, I was with the anti-tank platoon and just moved along behind the assault platoons.

The division flunked the test. The whole problem was set up to see how we could work as a division. Some general forgot about our rear security for the division, so the division still can’t go overseas.

You asked about my work here. Well, these men are not at all green. The 12th was activated about 2 years ago, and most of the enlisted men have been in it from the start. The platoon sergeants are wonderful, and all the squad leaders are efficient. Consequently, I follow the policy of keeping quiet and looking. Occasionally issuing a brief order just to keep my hand in. At the A.R.T.C. the lieutenants had to do everything in the absence of good non-coms. Here we make decisions, give the orders and just watch as it is carried out. Don’t have to show each man what to do. When you get here you will probably hear too much about these things.

Last night the 56th had a party here at the rec hall. I met all the officers’ wives and they seemed very interested in your coming down. They live in Abilene and will not doubt be friends of ours soon.

Today I sent you a night letter just in case I can’t get a phone call thru. As yet I haven’t been able to get the long distance operator! Nothing new, tho. As soon as Lt. Kurtz moves to his apartment, we can go to his room. He planned to move this week, but there is some delay in finishing off the apartment he wants to move to. I went to see the place today. It is in a good locality and a good house. Kurtz was out so I still haven’t seen the room!

Figures a little on our financial status today:
Total month’s pay=$252.00
Less one war bond=$18.75
Less insurance=$6.50
Less my board=$31.00
Less 2 bus trips to Abilene per day=$9.00
SO--$186.75 left to pay for our quarters, your board, laundry, and miscellaneous.

We should be able to do very well on that, even under the worst of conditions!

This will be a big change for both of us, particularly you. Changes are always a little tough at first. I know it will be a change all to the good for me, because I won’t be leaving anything I value and will be gaining the very thing I want most of all. But you will be leaving home really for the first time, will have a long lonely trip and a completely new environment to come to. You will have a new civilian life to get used to as well as learning about married life and in a sense getting adjusted to “army” life. That’s a big order, Honey—I know just how big. I wouldn’t ask you to do it, if I didn’t feel sure that even with these things, you will find this the best thing to do. We belong together, now. We have realized that for a long time, but we have been together so little that we haven’t done much but talk about the things we wanted to do. Now we will start living and doing these things. We’ll be doing them as the “Russells” and under conditions that will be imperfect, but will probably make us the real “unit” we want to be. This is “us,” honey, not just together in thoughts, but working in a real world. We can start on that building we have been laying the foundation to.

You’ll be homesick as hell, maybe, and you’ll feel like a stranger around here for a while. Expect that, and rather look for things to seem all wrong. But think of what we’re gaining. You’ll be with the person who loves you most in the world, and will do anything and everything to make things as fine as he can for you. That’s the permanent thing. The things you are leaving you will never forget, but will find that it is possible to get on without. You won’t be homesick long and when we do get adjusted we’ll be what we want to be—a functioning couple, young and mobile and as adjustable as they come, doing things and building a life that is going to have a hundred times the richness and value of the average. We have more to look forward to than most people because we are going to do the things that other people dream of. We aren’t after money and security primarily, but experiences, beauty and above all, truth. Those things are hard to remember in the face of a real situation, but they are there and much more available than either money or security to people who are after them sincerely.

You see, honey, we’re on the offensive now. We’re going to kick the world around a little for a change. Circumstances do not bring us together, we’re doing it. We expect to get scratched up here and there when we are doing the kicking, but think of the thrill of getting in a whack or two ourselves! And also of gaining our objective of being together!

I guess I don’t need to tell you how I’ve missed you. Last night most of all. Seeing all these other officers with their wives, dancing. I never thought that I would be yearning to dance. I just ain’t the type. But lately I’ve been longing to dance with you every time I hear an orchestra. Strongest of all last night. Made me wish for you so much last night that I left the old party early. I can’t take that environment without you now. It’s bad enough when there’s nothing around to remind me of you. But when they start playing “our” songs, and dancing, I know you’re supposed to be right beside me. When you aren’t, the music just cuts right into me. So I went to bed, after relaxing on three beers. (I was not drunk.)

I’m still trying to phone you—guess it will be pretty late when I do, and I know the connections will be bad. Want to hear you tho. Maybe next week we’ll be together at this time.

Gee, I’m in love with you. Hurry down, honey. We’ve got so many new worlds waiting for us.

All my love,
Wallace

[added on the last page, a message from Emma Nelson, Marjorie’s maternal grandmother]
Friday a.m.
I couldn’t resist opening this to hear what was new—but I decided it was the same date as the one you had—I did not mean any harm and hope Wallace will forgive me. It probably won’t happen again—this morning when I turned on the radio it was “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” then “A Song of Texas” and you were on the way there—I wonder what your night was like.

[Illegible name] and Emily left yesterday and Mrs. Liverham [?] and Lizzie Woodward called and last night Mrs. Woodbury came and stayed till 10 so I had her help into my dress. Janet is here this morning.

Love,
Mom

June somepin [14], 1944 Wednesday

Dear Honey,

Here is the whole division, in to camp for a couple of hours to police up the area. Never saw a good tactical situation change so quickly—I had taken over the 2nd platoon after their regular Lt. was captured, and was having a great old time. We are working against a foot infantry outfit and having a tough time of it. They are dug in up in the hills west of camp and we can hardly get a patrol thru. Will be out ‘til Sunday, trying to break thru.

This coming in is conceded to be hen-house waste, as the vulgar say, but from it I have a gained a shower, a shave, a letter from you and a bottle of beer, very cold. You don’t know how good those things are after being out in the sun. It isn’t half as hot a Georgia—big sun, but dry and a good breeze.

I am still feeling good about the room we practically have. I think about you coming a lot. Who would have thought we’d live together first in Texas! It’s a wonderful, exciting world. I find it better and better as time goes by, and I become broader and less inhibited.

Glad you are enjoying your K.T.C. activities. You will finish there, you know. This is just a postponement. As soon as we can’t be together, you can plan to finish up at K.T.C. If that situation doesn’t come, that’s just fine, as far as I’m concerned.

Have been browsing over a book “Trumpet In the Dust” during spare minutes in the field, very good—always think of us as reading books together. We have so much to do together.

All my love,
Wallace

June 10, 1944 Saturday

Dearest Honey,

You don’t know how happy I am to report that I have paid one week’s rent on a room in Abilene for you and me! Actually, it isn’t completely settled but it can be planned on. Lt. Kurtz, of Class 61, is moving out of his room to an apartment right after our Division problem. He is going to see that we get his present place by paying a week’s rent for the room for us when he tells his landlady he’s leaving. I have given him the money and it looks like a sure thing.

I did what I said I wouldn’t, and took the room without seeing it. Now before you hit me, remember that the situation here is getting so that there just are no places left. You don’t get a chance to choose between two places. With this room, which Kurtz says is light and O.K., we can live very reasonably until we can find a better place. It is better than the hotel plan, and maybe even better than I have expected it to be. The bathroom is downstairs and no cooking. That is bad, but as they say, we’ll have a beach-head to work from. The room is $8.00 a week, which is high but the lowest I have seen for Abilene. When we find an apartment, it will be $45 a month. Now we won’t be rushed to find an apartment, tho, and can enjoy life while waiting. Double bed and other furniture. Easy walk to center of Abilene. Many chances to ride to Barkeley.

I have told you, haven’t I, that the whole division will be in the field on a test all next week. We get back Saturday, the 17th. Then I’ll go in to see how our place is, and if it is still ours. If you get here any time after then, things will be fine. Don’t expect to hear from me next week. I’ll be out in the woods with the biggest outfit I’ve ever seen. Won’t have a platoon, I guess, just do odd jobs and watch the anti-tank gun platoon. I will have that when we get back, I hear. Certainly getting away from my specialized field—tank platoon leading! Very all around, you see. Now I’ll be shooting at tanks for awhile.

This afternoon I sent a telegram to you. Don’t know as it was really necessary. The main thing now is for you to let me know when you plan to arrive, so that I can meet you and have things kind of prepared. Unless I hear that you have set out before next Sunday, I will wire or phone again any new developments then. Really not much to coordinate on. You come down, I meet you. You look after getting here, I’ll look after the Abilene end and meet you at the train. If I can’t meet you, you go to the Hotel Wooten, still, unless I send you the street address of our room; then, of course, go there. Do think I can meet you, tho, almost any time from the 18th on.

Seems as tho I’m always saying goodby to you! Very likely I won’t be able to write until a week from today. It’s as always, tho, they can’t disconnect us completely. I’ll be thinking of you all the time. I like to so much. We have the nicest conversations sometimes—out in the wilderness at night, or anywhere. Very much like our real talks, too. Maybe that’s why we find it so easy when we are together. I don’t know, tho. The way we get together after being apart is just one of those things I can’t explain at all. It’s there, that’s all we know. It’s remarkable. I don’t believe in people being made for each other. There’s nothing to it at all. Naturally. That only makes us more of a paradox, tho. Don’t know why I keep trying to reason things out when everything is so unreasonable. There must be a reason, somewhere, why you and I are different from you and anybody else or me and anybody else. The difference is so big to me, and it is because “I love you.” That describes it perfectly, but does not explain it. Guess the reason isn’t too important, anyway. Just I love you is enough.

And I do, always,
Wallace