1944 November 29: “Unternehmen Elster” (Operation Magpie)

On November 29, 1944, two German agents landed on the shore near Hancock, Maine. They had set sail on September 22 aboard the German U-Boat 1230. The mission was to gather information about the effectiveness of German propaganda and gather intelligence on American shipyards, airplane factories and rocket-testing sites. William Colepaugh and Eric Gimpel came ashore in a rubber raft, armed with cash, guns, diamonds and other spy equipment. They made it to Boston and then New York city where Colepaugh, an American who had gone over to the German side, engaged in an extended course of nightclubbing and womanizing. Gimpel attempted to actually do some spying. Colepaugh ultimately turned himself in, admitted he was a spy and gave Gimpel up as well. They were arrested in late December. They were ultimately convicted of espionage and sent to prison. For the full details of the story see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unternehmen_Elster.

1944 December 1: “We are well over the hump”

12/1/44 Italy

Angel:

            Come esta? [“How are you?”] Bella?

            Hey!  Two years is too damn long for us to be apart.  But, Toots, we are well over the hump.  That may be scant consolation, but it means something.

            I had a shock this afternoon.  I found out that the people I do business with  in Service Command are a bunch of so & sos.*  A certain “civilian” Lt. Col. tied up a whole installation of new equipment for a combat squadron waiting for a letter of authorization.  I guess I must have told him off because I found the whole office laughing like hell when I hung up.  Our poor homely WAC must take an awful beating.  Dave (Waymond A. Davis) says my language is rougher than his father-in-law’s (who is a cowboy from Texas).

            My living expenses are high here, but the price is worth it.  I never appreciated a bathroom and tub until I went without same for 2 years.  Well, I really started appreciating it on my first six months of maneuvers.

            This goofy gold pencil you sent me has suddenly decided to work like a charm.

            So you’re satisfied with Chuck’s gal friend. I hope he has more sense about same than I had at his age.  I still can’t imagine him grown.  Hell, Snooks, we’re getting old!  Of course, you can’t tell it by the way either of us look or act.

            A kid named Keyes, in my upper class at Randolph, is here now.  He is also a major—for the same reason I am.  Last night I found out he was at N.C. College [North Central College]** in Naperville from about 35-39.  Who did we know who was there then?

            I’m glad you’re fixing up the most important room in the house first.  How’s the ceiling?  Shall I bring home some paintings for same?

            Time for supper—More later.

Had supper with Keyes and he came up for a bore-ass, having just left.  He was stationed in Bone when I was at Souk el Arba, and flew escort for us several times.  Small world, isn’t it.  Gosh, Africa seems years away.           

            Did you get the letters I wrote when I was flying across?  Were you able to figure out where I was?  I remember describing the little red native houses on the rugged green mountains of Trinidad.  Someday I’ll show you all that.

            My shower at Belem was another experience I wrote about.  The water stopped just after I’d soaped all over, so I went out in the rain to wash it off.

            Well, Honey, heaven help the natives when I get home and start telling my “Gulliver’s Travels” stories.  I’ll snow ‘em under.

            It’s time for bed.  I’m OD tomorrow—that’s how far I am from the war.

                        All my love, kitten, Cy

I’m glad you like Kay, she’s a good kid.  What do you think of Huntoon’s family now you’ve seen them?

The enclosures might be interesting.  The song is quite popular.

*See: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Air_Service_Command,_Mediterranean_Theater_of_Operations;

**See: https://www.northcentralcollege.edu/college/our-history-our-future

12/1/44 #2  Italy

Angel:

e            What a war.  Here I sit, at 11:30 P.M. and can’t get to sleep.  Dave is leaving in a couple of days which makes me acting chief of section.  I won my first major argument today.  A-3 has agreed to sacrifice a little on today’s bombing so we may gain on tomorrow’s.     On the planes, I get valuable data on the new types.  It is the first time the tactical groups have seen the light.  If they don’t counter-attack successfully I’m in!  Of course, I may get my head chopped off, but, god dammit, I’ll put this thing called engineering on a paying basis yet.  So far, everyone has been overjoyed to find anyone willing to make a decision.  Of course, if I make a mistake, to quote Wild Bill the Bard, “the evil that men do lives after them.  The good is oft interred with their bones.”

            My study program has bogged down now that I have my books.  They’re good references but by the time I finish a day’s work, I don’t feel much like studying.  After nearly a year with nothing to do, I find I haven’t time for a day off—not for over a month.

            Look in my books and send:

            APPLIED MECANICS—CHAMBERS (green book)

            STRENGTH OF MATERIALS—POORMAN (dark blue)

They represent the two courses I knew the least about and now need the most.  I need them badly.  If they are different sizes, wrap them separately as my Sokolnikoff was beat up when I got it.

            It is sometimes hard to take, but although I’m far behind what I would be in rank had I not insisted on getting overseas and into combat, I have found in the past week visiting combat groups that I don’t have to sit on the outside looking in.  I have much more experience than the average group officer and they are inclined to listen to me without giving me the old fish-eye.

            Well Toughy, it all boils down to one thing.  I love you and am going to make a success of Army life so there.  As one lad put it in a show I saw, “Come over here and lay down.  I want to talk to you.  Now there just one thing I want to get into you!”

            Cy

P.S.  12/2/44  Boss has gone.  I’m it—Sure is lonesome—wish you were here.  C.B.


1944 December 5: Working on my day off

12/3/44: Greece: Civil war breaks out between pro-communist and anti-communist forces.

12/5/44: Italy: Allied forces take control of Revenna

12/5/44 Italy

Honey:

            I shouldn’t be doing this as I have a hell of a lot of work to do.  This my “day off” and naturally I can’t take it.  Thus far I’ve had two conferences with general officers and have more to come.  It isn’t that I’m any more important than I used to be, but that Colonels just don’t make decisions like they used to.

            If I don’t get in trouble it will be a miracle.  I had a Lt.-Col. with 2 years service tell me I was doing my work in a half-assed way this morning, and I really chewed his ass  out.  That is one thing no one has ever told me.

            Your picture is very tantalizing.  And that is an understatement.  It is doubly so as I can see it and also the inverted reflection in my black glass-topped desk.

            Jack’s Christmas present is on the way.  I found a little box about half the size of a cigar box, covered with mahogany-colored leather with tiny fleur-di-lis stamped on it in gold.  She can use it for putting in bricka-bracks & stuff.

            I’ve got one officer and one man here who are getting symptoms of overseas fatigue.  I’ve seen more “flack happy” people in administrative jobs than I ever saw in combat.  They can’t remember things from one minute to the next, even losing their line of reasoning while in the middle of a sentence.  It makes it awfully hard to work with them.  I have another officer who I have never seen who’s home on leave.  As soon as he gets back I’m going to get the flack-happy lad before the psychiatrist.

            As for me, there’s nothing wrong that 70 more years with you won’t cure.  I haven’t had a letter from you for a couple of days, and it seems like years.

            I got the presents from Mother and Dad, but don’t tell them I opened them.  I have a note in my expense file to write them on the 26th.

            Did you meet Betty Dean, Mary Wallace’s cousin in San Antonio?  She was a swell girl—just got an announcement she married some L-C in S.A. at Fort Sam.  Speaking of Fort Sam, Reggie Clizbe* tells me that Bob Cassidy got killed in a F.A. outfit in SWP theatre.  I hope the bastards leave me enough friends for a beer bust once in a while. 

            Can you buy canned shrimp, oysters, Ritz crackers, etc.  without using ration coupons now?  If so you can charge right out and wrap up about 5 lbs worth.  About 103 lbs of “Honey” would be nice too, but I guess I can’t get that mailed.

            I was supposed to fly to Rome today, but weather prevented.

            George Doughty, Republic Aviation representative is here now, and we have had some interesting conversations.  He was in Pacific at first, and went home.  After a month, he couldn’t put up with it any more and came over here.  I’m afraid when I get home you’d better take me out in the woods someplace until I get used to people who think in terms of dollars instead of lives.

            Merry Christmas, Toots.  All my love, Cy

*See: https://www.af.mil/About-Us/Biographies/Display/Article/107410/major-general-reginald-j-clizbe/

1944 December 7: Merry Christmas

12/7/44 V-Mail, Italy

Marfy Darling:

            Your pictures are driving me nuts—to put it mildly.  How about some more?

            So you never had any nightmares about me!  That’s good.  There wasn’t anything really dangerous about Africa and Italy, at least that’s what they tell us now.  Almost makes me ashamed I accepted the overseas pay—yeah it sure does.

            In case I’ve neglected it recently, I might mention you’re about 4 times as purty as when I first saw you.

            I hope your Christmas presents get there by Christmas.  If not, I’ll tell you what to expect.  I bought you a little set of liqueur goblets about 2 ½ inches high which are not silver but made of a very durable and attractive alloy.  There is a tray of the same metal.  There there is a linen hand-embroidered table cloth and 12 dinner napkins.  There is a slightly shear silk nightgown I bought for me for you wear, if you know what I mean.

            But most of all, Honey, I love you and Merry Christmas.  Your Cy

1944 December 9: After your last letter I raped my pajamas

12/8/44 Pacific-Iwo Jima: American air forces begin a two month bombing campaign against the Japanese island fortress in preparation for the invasion planned for February.

12/9/44  “November 38, 1944” Italy

Hi Snooks:

            Wrong month again, so I just added some days.

            I had another letter from Nena yesterday.  She is married and probably has good reason to be.  But I just can’t seem to force myself to worry any more.  Even when I was in the business, it was that way.  John’s smart enough that he probably won’t have much trouble.

            What in hell did I leave at home that you can put in my clothes gadget?  It’s been so long since I was there that I can’t remember leaving anything but my long o’coat.  How about a sketch?

            Hey! Would you like a leather covered hand-tooled box for your “joolry” if I sent it to you?  They specialize in them here.  What size—do you prefer brown, mahogany or black?  –plain, tooled a little or a lot—with or without little gold fleur di lis?  It might be a nice place to put  bracelets & stuff.

            That’s about it, Toots.  Your last letter was so sweet I raped my pajamas, if you know what I mean.

            All my love, Cy.

16 more days ‘til Merry Christmas

Hand drawn Christmas card from the Vulcano family to Cy

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