Author’s note on the history of the 12th Air Force, XII Bomber Command, which included the 47th Bombardment Group. From Wikipedia: “XII Bomber Command was constituted on 26 February 1942 and activated on 13 March at MacDill AAF Florida. It was assigned to Twelfth Air Force in August and transferred, without personnel and equipment, to High Wycombe England where the command was re-formed. XII Bomber Command was moved to Tafaraoui, Algeria on 22 November 1942 as part of the Operation Torch landings in North Africa.
XII Bomber Command served in combat in the Mediterranean theater until 1 November 1943 when most of the personnel were withdrawn. The command was restaffed in January 1944 and served in combat until 1 March. It was disbanded in Corsica on 10 June 1944.” This would appear to explain why Cy was being shuffled about to various HQ posts in 1944.
6/19/44: The U.S. defeats the Japanese in The Battle of the Philippine Sea, resulting in enemy losses of some 400 planes and three air craft carriers.
6/24/44, Italy
Honey:
What a thrill! When I got home here I found that I had about a dozen letters from you. I shall go through them and answer all of your questions as they come up.
The trip to see Gerrity’s should be a good deal, although Washington sounds not too good for Huntoons. Maybe so.
After I wrote about the belt for the blouse, I finally got the cleaner to find the old one. So you can scratch that off the list.
The crystal sounds swell. I certainly am going to have a hell of a lot of things to see when I finally get there. Don’t forget I haven’t even seen your engagement ring yet!
Glad to hear Mammy is up and about again.
I got a nice letter from Chocolate when I got back here. He seems pretty well satisfied with the deal, and says Mary approves of my selection as well.
OH BOY! Hang on to that bottle of Scotch! I ain’t had some for some time. It means a hangover, but it will be well worth it. The liquor at school was drinkable, but not very, so I stayed rather sober.
Ernie Pyle’s books are good. Also, get a hold of any books on Bill Mauldin’s cartoons that you can. They are very typical of front line life.
Be damn sure Chuck gets his high school diploma. The war isn’t important enough to interrupt that just now.
Why don’t you let Chuck teach you to jitterbug? Then you can teach me? Should be good exercise.
The enclosed snap was taken while I was on leave a couple of months ago. As you can plainly see, although the camera is in focus, the eyes are not. Who says French beer isn’t intoxicating.
What is the “cauterization” you mention. Haven’t heard anything about that before? That is something they do when you’ve been bitten by a mad dog. Gosh, honey, I didn’t know I’d ever bitten you that hard!
Your tan sure does show up in the photos. Wish I could get a good look at it.
As per your request, please send me the Terman on Radio Engineering.
The colors of the thread won’t make a hell of a lot of difference over here. The reason John probably bought all new clothes was that things are that molto chic in Italy would be like something just in from the country over there. My pants are at least 5 inches above the tops of my shoes, but I’m not embarrassed for everyone else is in the same shape. I’ll try to fix them this week.
I hope I never get any draftees like Chick Buell!
This time I shall try to keep the Wacs out of the Bazaar. I guess that the other one did enough good, though, that it was worth it. These gals are totally unnecessary over here, but are doing a good job anyhow. The men they relieve have to be put on guard around their quarters!
So you’re back in the restaurant business. I can see what you mean, as that is why I left home.
Well, that answers all the questions. Now for the poop.
The school trip was quite the stuff. I got stuck in the first stop out of here and couldn’t get a plane for 9 days. As I only had four until the school started, I got on the phone and made some calls. As usual, the South Africans came to my rescue, and gave me a ride all of the way, although I had a two day lay-over before the plane left.
The first evening I spent on board an RAF rescue launch. The radio was out, and I ended up quite dirty, but happy. The next evening, the Royal Navy sank me in the wardroom of one of the destroyers. The doc and chief engineer, Aussie and English respectively, had a great deal in common with yours truly, and we talked until dawn. At that time I had to walk over a railroad bridge 30 feet above the water and then for 3 miles to the hotel. I made it in time for breakfast and a rush trip to the airport.
The first night out was spent in a city in the middle of no place, which I was lead to believe was about like some of the towns we saw in Tampa, Florida. I wrote a letter from there and I hope it got through ok.*
The people at the school were fine. I seem to get along quite well with the British, probably because my patriotism is not the blind type which says “my country right or wrong.” I was asked to give several lectures in the course, and excused from many others.
While there, I lived in a hotel which is top notch, but about what I would call 2nd rate in Iowa. Things were rather expensive, so I didn’t do much sightseeing. Anyhow, I am a lousy tourist. I met quite a few people from parts of the world I never expect to see but may. They are all the same the world over.
Laugh this one off. Every time I show your picture, people refuse to believe we are married, only engaged, as they say we are both too young to be married for four years.
I had dinner every night with some of the people attending the school, and got a great deal out of these associations. I met people who had worked in all sorts of capacities, as well as from all over the world. I learned much more both technically and otherwise from these people than from the school.
Our troops down there are lousy. They spend all their time worrying about making people think they are fighting a war. It is strict hooey. Some of the convoys we’ve been guarding have been carrying beer (6 bots per week) to the poor Cairo Commando Corps to keep up their morale. It is disgusting.
On my way back, I got routed past Gozland’s home and spent a day there. The packages had just arrived the day before, and Gab hadn’t taken them over. Honey, you should have seen them. Rita almost cried when she found her gadget too small, but was able to fix it the next day. It is exquisite. Marcel struts around like he owned the place (which he does). And Mama just didn’t say anything at all. She didn’t have to, as looks gave her away. That night we visited some friends of theirs and they talked of nothing else but their presents.
The next stop landed me at Vulcanos! Of course, all of this was purely accidental! They remembered it was our anniversary, and got me so tight by 10 a.m. that I had to call up and cancel my reservation until the next day. It helped a lot not to have to sit and think about spending our second anniversary apart. Darling, if it takes a bust to shavetail, we’ll spend the next one together. And I hope that goes for birthdays and Christmas too, although the latter may be a bit too optimistic.
When I got here, I found great gobs of mail, as well as the photo album. I spend about an hour working on it, and believe it will be filled before I finish. I may have to ask for another one. I have only thrown out about half a dozen of the pictures you’ve sent, and that means that there are a hell of a lot of them for the book. I’m putting in some of the stuff over here which I don’t think would pass the censors.
I’m sending my watch home as it has about had it. If possible, get a new stem, crystal, mainspring, and balance spring put on. Also, I want a new face on it with round dial (instead of octagon) for both minute and second hand. I want plain black numbers on a white background. Then send it on back. I bought a watch in Cairo which is quite good, as it only lost 11 seconds in two weeks, but it seems to have stopped now. It is being worked on and should be ok.
Honey, I went all over the place and I couldn’t find a thing there that we would have in our house. I think most of the things I’ve gotten so far are pretty nice, and I don’t want a piece of junk laying around just because I was in that city. Maybe after the war we can find something typical of the place. I went down there prepared to get something, but there wasn’t anything worth buying.
Honey, that is all I can think of now. How’s the apartment hunting coming out? Wish I could help you. This will be the first one I haven’t had a hand in.
It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, that I’ll probably have to make love to you and propose to you all over again when I get home. In any case, be prepared to be propositioned damned soon after that happens.
Love is scarcely adequate for the way I adore you, Cy.
*This letter was not found in the collection my dad received from Marty.
Author’s note: I found it fascinating that after not writing for two weeks, and the Normandy invasion having taken place–so it was not a secret, and yet there is no mention of it whatsoever. I would have expected a comment like “So did anything exciting happen while I was away?”