Year: 1944

1944 January 2 “nothing more gruesome than a war torn corpse of a factory”

1/1/44:

SATURDAY, 1 JANUARY 1944

ARMY AIR FORCES, MEDITERRANEAN THEATER OF OPERATIONS (AAFMTO):
   A complete reorganization of USAAF units in the Mediterranean Theater of Operations (MTO) takes place: US Army Air Forces, North African Theater of Operations (USAAFNATO) is redesignated AAF Mediterranean Theater of Operations (AAFMTO); XII Air Force Services Command becomes AAF Services Command Mediterranean Theater of Operations (AAFSCMTO); III Air Services Area Command (Special) becomes XII Air Force Services Command; II Air Services Area Command becomes XV Air Force Services Command; XII Air Force Engineer Command (Provisional) becomes AAF Engineer Command, Mediterranean Theather of Operations (Provisional); and XII Air Force Training Command is changed to XII Air Force Training and Replacement Command. The XII Bomber Command, Twelfth Air Force is reorganized as an medium bomber organization, 3 B-25 groups and the 3 B-26 groups of the 42d Bombardment Wing (Medium), under Brigadier General Robert D Knapp.

1/2/44 V-Mail
Italy
Hi Upswoop*:
Now isn’t that a hell of a thing to do? Well, even if I didn’t write, I spent a lot of time thinking about you. But I was in such a vile mood I didn’t want to write.
Just before New Years they moved us to a new hospital. Having previously operated only in the laps of luxury they are completely helpless. Thus far I have bawled out three doctors and the mess officer. They made the mistake of thinking a Major in the A.F. lost all rank when in M.D. pajamas. They know better now. I think I shall try for a couple of scalps when I get out.
I took a long walk through a small, but completely modern steel plant several days ago. Damn it, it hurt to see what was left after the Germans completed all their demolitions. To an engineer, there is nothing more gruesome than a war torn corpse of a factory. I saw a beautiful 5500 horsepower electric motor ruined, a 5 million dollar machine shop destroyed, Bessemer converters, open hearths, grinders, power plant, all destroyed by the retreating mass of beaten Germans. Hate develops easily.
Two infantry shave-tails have taken a great shine to me. They have been knocked slightly loose from their hinges by shell fire. I ignore this and talk to them. A month of rest and retirement from military duty and they’ll be all ok again.
Although not good for jaundice, cognac raises my New Years morale.

I was awfully griped. While sick, EM** lived in poorly heated wet tents on the other side of the road the hospital and other docs in the ballroom, dry& warm. The room would accommodate all of the EM. It’s a disgrace to the service and don’t think the men don’t notice it.
Hey you, I love you. Your own brat, Cy.

*Cy frequently mentions how he wants Marty to keep her hair long and to put it in an “updo”.  I believe “Upswoop” is his play on the word “upsweep” which refers to an upswept hairdo.

**“EM” refers to enlisted men who were in the hospital here.

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1944 January 5 “I got accused of looking like Clark Gable today”

1/4/44:

 Transfers in Italy:
   HQ XII Bomber Command and HQ 57th Bombardment Wing from Bari and Foggia
respectively to Trocchia.

1/5/44 Italy
Marfy:
I’m in another hospital now! This one is a honey. The nurses are all homely, but both they and the docs are pleasant as hell.
The clippings are from the weekly Stars & Stripes which is put out of Africa, censored so we can send it home.
Hey Toots, buy and read in small bits Joe Davies’ “Mission to Moscow”. It explains a lot of things which have happened and are happening.


My God, I’m homely! I got accused of looking like Clark Gable today. I’m taping my ears down tonight.
Local crop of nurses all vote you best looking of patients’ wives. I agree.
Cy
P.S. As if you didn’t know, I love you.

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1944 January 6 “My icterus index is down”

1/6/44 Italy
Snooks:
Decided to send some more enclosures. The printed black sheets are part of the paper bombs we dropped in Africa when Gen’l Rommel left. We usually preceded these attacks by 12 or more tons of bombs on a very small area. There were damned effective in tearing down morale. It was a capital offense for a German soldier to be caught with same.
The printed card is a souvenir I picked up about 5 months ago on a trip.
The 10 lire money is pre-war, or at least pre-invasion. The 10 and 5 Allied are ones we printed up for the invasion.
Hey! Remember a rather nice lad, about 30, my size (only heavy like I used to be) who played bridge at Norm & Red’s, C. Smith? Well, I was in the same room with him here. It’s a small world.
My icterus index is down to 13, which means I’m almost well.
Lots of love, Toots, Cy.

1/6/44 V-Mail
Italy
Hi:
You are a very beautiful little nut, but that sure doesn’t help me now. I sometimes wonder if these men with ugly wives aren’t better off! But then I wouldn’t change you for anything.
Boy it’s cold. Sunny Italy—phooey! It’s just like “sunny” California. It sure is funny to look out the window and see palm trees and know there is snow within a few miles.
Have you heard about little Audrey’s latest! She joined the Wacs and came to Sicily. It wasn’t long before the monthly inspection and the doc told her she was slightly pregnant. She just laughed and laughed because she knew in a couple of months that an “Italian Balm” would remove the little chap.
I often wonder just what you’re doing these days. Most of the day, though, I know you’re asleep as it is night there.
I was put in for a Silver Star and a promotion many moons ago, but you can relax as I am fairly sure that neither will come through. Damn it all, I won’t play politics for anybody or anything. I’ve come this far without it and I won’t change now.
Except for no Martha, I’m almost well, happy and well fed. I’m starting a campaign to fix that before 1945.
Love Cy.

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1944 January 7 “This entire group has me completely stymied”

1/7/44 Mission:

TACTICAL OPERATIONS (Twelfth Air Force):
   In Italy, B-25's strike Perugia Airfield; A-20's hit defenses in close
support of the US Fifth Army; B-26's hit the marshalling yards at Foligno and Arezzo and attack a bridge at Roccasecca; A-36's hit gun positions, trucks, and trains in the Cervaro- Aquino-Cassino area, bomb the Aquino station, and hit the Velletri railway yards; P-40's give close support in the Monte Maio, Monte La Chiaia, Monte Porchia, and Cedro Hill areas as the US Fifth Army drives toward the Rapido River.
Italy battle lines near Cassino, Jan. 1944

1/7/44 Italy
Hi Toots:
I just bought a pencil in my PX ration and I can’t resist the urge to use it.
The writing folder that the Randalls sent me for Christmas has a place for your pictures, and it sure makes me feel close to you to be able to look at you while I write.
Phooey, I like the pen better.
Doggone you! I’ve tried for four years to get your hair put up. Boy, from what Mother says, and from the picture’s effect on the local populace, I’m sure missing something.
Honey, you may think I’m nuts, but what would your reaction be to my getting into the Diplomatic Corps after the war? I don’t know enough about it yet, but it might be an interesting possibility. A rolling stone may gather no moss, but neither does it not become eroded.
The nurses are all confused. My chart shows my age as 27, and I’ve told them it was 21 and 24. They don’t know which. As a result, everybody calls me “Junior”. The attitude of the hospital staff over here is enough to cure anybody. I have never seen a better bunch. It makes me think of Earl Maxwell, Fry, and Glover.
There was ice on the ground this morning. You can just be very happy for me that I’m a pilot and not a ground officer in infantry or artillery. They really go through hell. Of course, we get it much rougher when we are catching hell.
This jaundice is funny stuff. It doesn’t show until 80% of your liver is not working. That is why they are so careful. When you appear to be alright, you are still only 20% ok. Although I have felt fine for 2 weeks, they want to be absolutely sure before turning me loose. It is a good idea.
I haven’t heard from the squadron since the 1st, and naturally have received no mail. They should bring some in a couple of days.
I am very discouraged about the squadron. They obviously think no more of me than they do of the pups which hang around the mess hall. It may have a favorable meaning in a way, as I have been quite strict and made them work hard. But I have obviously made no friends. This entire group has me completely stymied. I have been with them for 6 months or more and am still definitely an outsider. I have established a reputation for fairness and honesty, and that is about all. My record is covered with “superior”s and yet my opinion is not respected at all. The obvious answer is to relax and enjoy same and eventually the situation will change. I want very much to get someplace where I can work hard and see some results. My main enjoyment in life is the completion of a hard job in a satisfactory manner. Frankly, combat flying, if it gets no worse than it has been, is a pushover. It is dangerous, but a little self-discipline can stave off fear. I would feel much more useful in any kind of an engineering job than I feel in the one I now have.
Well, enough griping. I’ve stood it for six months now, and I can put up with another six. After that, I’m afraid I shall blow up and get into a situation with less B.S. in it.
Hey! If a light sleeper sleeps lighter with a light on, does a hard sleeper sleep harder with a window open?
Cy
P.S. I love you.

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